Sick as a Dog
by Akurei
Summary: When Sirius was asked to perform a task of worthiness in order to be godfather to James' son, he never imagined the consequences could be so farreaching or horrific. Contains promiscuity, flashbacks, puns and a very sick Padfoot. DISCONTINUED
1. I Get No Respect

Warning: The author, Akurei, would like to testify that she is volatile and revels in it. She likes insanity, fire, humour, pissing people off, writing and Sirius Black. She hopes to combine all of these in the forthcoming fic, which may or may not have the desired effect. Be aware that while fear remains optional at all times, it is strongly advised.   
  
Disclaimer: The author would like to state that a warning and a disclaimer are different things, thus she can get away with it. She'd also like to point out that this is the shortest author's note she'll ever, EVER write, that more relevant explanations are at the bottom, that the third person is thoroughly amusing, that this is a run-on sentence and that Harry Potter is not hers (although she is convinced that Buddha and the SARS virus could change that).  


  
* * *  
  
Sick as a Dog  
Chapter 1: I Get No Respect  


  
  
I am sex appeal personified, thought Sirius Black as he sashayed through the automatic door, chin-length hair blowing slightly off his perfect features as the breeze blew in from the open door behind him. With his hands on the hips that would have made Elvis green with envy, he surveyed the establishment, a devil-may-care grin on his pouting lips. The sexy eligible bachelor at 20 years of age removed his rather expensive, but completely worth it Ray Bans, revealing smoldering ice blue eyes that dared anyone not reduced to a quivering pile of fangirl to take a chance with me, baby'.  
  
Someone addressed him, welcoming him to their abode. Like he cared. He was so above the little people. Sirius adjusted his leather coat over his spectacularly formed shoulder muscles, looking to all the world a nonchalant lady killer. The sexy beast moved his Gucci-clad foot, making the silver buckle sparkle under the dying fluorescent lights, as he pondered his next move.  
  
  
  
It was the one who had spoken to him earlier, as if in a past life. She was about his age, but nowhere near as sexy. Not that he blamed her, poor thing. Sirius turned his chiseled chin towards her in a move worthy of a top earning male model.  
  
he decided to answer her, in a burst of generosity. You had to give back to your adoring legions of fans every so often, anyway.  
  
Would you mind moving off the sensor pad? A lot of cold air is coming in, and Mrs. Wallace over there tends to get cantankerous when she feels a draft...  
  
Sirius raised a delicately manicured eyebrow, then closed his eyes, long lashes brushing against his face. He gave a little huff, wondering if these people would ever understand how hard it was to be studly and charming, 24/7.  
  
Once he was off the sensor pad, the door hissed shut.  
  
Black, Sirius Black, knew that the time for pleasantries was over. He had a mission to fulfill, one even more important than matching his countless leather outfits to his motorbike, which sat waiting outside, fully prepared to roar off into the night at the slightest hint of danger. Sirius squared his shoulders, and fixed his eyes onto the unsexy girl. His eyebrows came together in a frown as he read her nametag: Hi, my name's Suzy!. Sirius then locked his eyes into her own, knowing full well his seductive prowess was showing. His gaze spoke of his unrelenting and fierce nature, as well as his depthless loyalty and courage. practically trembled as she spoke.  
  
I--is there anything I can help you find, s-sir?  
  
For the first time since entering the building, Sirius looked doubtful, unsure. The low-quality lights were suddenly blinding, and the unswept checkered floor seemed very far away. The shelves of canned food threatened to engulf him, and the neon lottery display looked fierce and predatory. He felt a cold sweat gather on his brow. This was the moment of truth, the time when a man was either made or broken. His hour of reckoning was upon him, and Sirius intended to take it like a (very beautiful) man.  
  
Er, yes. Where can I find your selection of... he trailed off, wishing he could just ask for condoms, like usual. Even asking where the W.C. was seemed like an infinitely favourable option. Sirius turned his gorgeous head away, knowing he probably looked like some conflicted Greek god at that moment, and settled his vision on the electric sign facing the outside street.   
  
It said: OPEN 24 HOURS.  
  
He took inspiration from this brave claim, turned back towards Suzy, and declared:  
  
Where are your diapers?  
  
Suzy might've been giggling at his discomfort, but Sirius preferred to believe she was swooning at his good looks.   
  
Only real men bought diapers anyways, he told himself huffily.  
  
Sirius then found himself being lead through the treacherous depths of the corner store, where he avoided not one but two little boys running at him with toy robots. He feared for his Gucci shoes, and prayed that the green substance he had sighted on one of the shelves was not radioactive, or worse, permanently staining. After what seemed like eternity, Suzy stopped in front of a large display of diapers.  
  
Well, here are your nappies, sir, she chirped, smiling a little too brightly for Sirius' liking. He'd have to hex her if she giggled again.  
  
And then he was alone. With diapers.  
  
Sirius could not help but release a sigh of relief. His mission was at a close. He reached for a particularly promising-looking package, when suddenly he stopped.  
  
What brand? Red or blue? Super absorbent or stretchy?  
  
His hands were shaking. His breathing was heavy. He threw his head back, and cursed his cruel fate.  
  
James and Lily, how could you?!  
  


*earlier that evening*  


  
It was late in the evening, and all was well in the Potter household. As well as things could ever be with one Sirius Black present, in any case.  
  
Said menace was currently seated in the family room, with his best friend's infant son in his arms. Young Harry James Potter stared up at Uncle Padfoot', green eyes wide with curiosity. Sirius gazed back, smiling in a promising way.  
  
One day, Harry. One day you, too, will know how to roll your tongue, rest assured. Because I'm going to teach you how, even if a certain Mr. Moony thinks I'd be a curse to the profession if I ever decided to instruct... But we don't listen to the mean little lycanthrope, do we? No we don't! He's just jealous of us, isn't he? Yes he is!  
  
Harry giggled, and Sirius felt well rewarded for his efforts.  
  
James Potter announced, casting an imperious look at his friend.  
  
Sirius, as per always, ignored him completely.  
  
No we don't listen to Uncle Moony! I never do! No I don't! And I'm fine! Yes I am!  
  
That's debatable.  
  
However, Sirius was only able to ignore for as long as he wasn't insulted. His fellow Marauders knew this well, and exploited it to the best of their ability.  
  
What? I'm stable, Sirius retorted angrily, glaring at James.  
  
Sure, Padfoot, James agreed, a holier-than-thou look on his face.  
  
Sod off.  
  
Excuse me? This is my house, and it was my wife who just made you dinner! You're in no position to be telling people to sod off, my canine friend!  
  
Be a deer, and stop being an ass.  
  
I wasn't aware that I could change into a donkey as well as a stag. Well. I'm just so talented that I surprise myself!  
  
James caught the look on Sirius' face, and counted himself lucky that his friend couldn't attack him while he was holding Harry. Children truly were a blessing.  
  
Useful in defensive maneuvers, too,' the bespectacled prankster mused. Lily then poked her head in from the kitchen, summarizing the scene with a quick glance.  
  
I take it you haven't asked Mr. Black yet?  
  
James gulped, knowing whatever response he gave was likely to be the wrong one. Sirius stood up from the couch, and handing a squirming Harry over to Lily. He watched James sweat for a few seconds more, gleeful not to be the one currently being subjected to Lily's scrutinizing glare. Finally, he decided to come to his long-time friend's rescue.  
  
Well, he did question my sanity, but I doubt that's what you're referring to.  
  
Sirius grinned at Lily, knowing she always found humour in his idiocy. Sure enough, the redhead was smirking at him in mere seconds. She tossed James a guilt-inducing look, and disappeared back into the kitchen, muttering to her son something about being surrounded by idiots.  
  
So, anyways... James trailed off, hoping he wouldn't have to resort to commenting on the weather, but desperate to end the silence. Because if he didn't, Sirius would. And that was simply not a (safe) option. Letting Padfoot break the ice was always a disastrous occurrence. It usually ended with detention, or, now that they were out of school, bar fights and threats of jail time.   
  
(In fact, James' own stag party had included both these results within a space of 15 minutes. James had received a black eye and had had to wear magical cover-up (Maybe-something) at his wedding. Sirius, on the other hand, had gotten blood stains on his leather coat, something he considered much worse than, say, a bleeding skull. But he had been able to console himself by laughing at James for wearing, as he put it, girly stuff. James had retaliated to this indignity by shoving lip stick up Sirius nose, something that not only blocked one of his airways for an extended duration of time, but also gave him a nasty rash.)  
  
This inner flashback cost James dearly, as Sirius had started to talk.  
  
What's the matter, Jimmy? Humbled into silence by my mere presence, are you? Sirius paused, flicked his eyes towards James to verify that he was becoming properly irked, then continued. Well, I can't say I haven't seen this coming for a long, long time. It was inevitable. Y'see, Jim--  
  
Don't call me Jimmy', you self-absorbed, inept, moronic, repulsive, aggravating, insipid, mindless bast--  
  
Careful, Jimmy! There's a child in the house, Sirius reminded James, in what he honestly thought was a helpful gesture.  
  
James paused (and resisted the strong urge to succumb to his primal killing instincts, if only for the fact that bodies are hard to hide). He looked towards the closed kitchen door, then cast a silencing charm around the room. Sirius observed his surroundings patiently, in the meantime.  
  
Don't call me Jimmy', you bastard, James finished curtly. Sirius blinked.  
  
What, no more adjectives? You were really on a roll!  
  
You're not worthy of my descriptive language.  
  
How come? Are you saving it for your poetry anthology, Jimmy? Sirius peered at his fellow Animagus expectantly, but James only shook his head in an amused way. Sirius resorted to pleading. Just one, Prongs, that's all I'm asking for here! For good ol' Padfoot?  
  
You're neither good nor old, Siri.  
  
Did you just call me   
  
  
  
I really hope that's not your great insult, Jamesie, cause you should know I got over that nickname years ago - you do know that right?  
  
James repeated, noting with utmost satisfaction the anxiety apparent of Sirius' features.  
  
C'mon, Prongs! Don't worry me like this!  
  
James chuckled under his breath, fully aware he had pushed Sirius into a pathetic, desperate and pitiful state. That was all he could ask for, really.  
  
You worry too easily, you malignant growth.  
  
Sirius nearly squealed with relieved delight, and James swore that his friend's body language was identical to that of a wiggling puppy.  
  
Putridly yours, Mr Prongs, came Mr Padfoot's swift and excited response. James laughed at his dog-like best friend, wondering not for the first time how he could so effortlessly and constantly toe the line between annoyingly idiotic and irresistibly lovable.  
  
It has to be you, Padfoot, James spoke tenderly as soon as his laughter had abated. Sirius, still giggling, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the non-sequitur. James instantly wanted to take back his words.  
  
Jamesiekins, your train of thought has left me at the station, and I'm not wearing trainers, Sirius stated frankly. What do I have to be? Man, I hope I'm not walking into something insulting...  
  
James adjusted his glasses, hoping to avoid the eye contact which suddenly seemed very hard.  
  
A...the...godfather. Harry's, he stuttered lamely, fervently wishing he'd rehearsed this like Lily had suggested. James gazed at Sirius with painful but necessary effort.  
  
His friend's look showed first confusion, then surprise before Sirius' mouth curved downwards in a dubious frown. James' heart sank.  
  
Have you even seen that movie, the canine Animagus deadpanned, the frown changing to a coy smirk before James' myopic eyes.  
  
You absolute prat, James choked out, his tone absent of anything but intense and genuine fondness.  
  
You're the prat - why'd you take so long to ask? A guy could start to feel insulted, Sirius replied, crossing the room to envelop his dearest friend in a hug. James returned it full-force, not caring that he was crying, because Sirius was, too.  
  
Bloody hell, I hate sentimental crap! Look at my leather jacket - I just got it cleaned, too, Sirius sniffed regretfully as they separated. James rubbed his eyes furiously, eager to retort.  
  
Your jacket! What about my t-shirt?  
  
Sod on your t-shirt; leather's expensive!  
  
They stared at each other, too drained to engage in the obligatory well-rehearsed repartees shared by all long-time friends.  
  
James had begun speaking softly, but wasn't able to continue as his friend was hurriedly shushing him.  
  
Yeah, yeah - me too, you great dork. In the non-romantic, forever-and-ever brotherly sense and all that..... Sirius finished with exasperation, completely sincere. Even if he felt he needed to reply, James would find he had no more words.  
  
The silence stretched for a few minutes, though not uncomfortably. James casually removed the silencing charm he had cast earlier, and Lily's movements in the adjacent kitchen became audible once more.   
  
"So, how much of our conversation d'you think she picked up," Sirius asked playfully, knowing Lily, being the charms prodigy she was, would have had no trouble whatsoever bypassing the silencing charm James had cast.  
  
"Oh, I dunno, maybe...the entire thing," James replied, "You know how nosy she is."  
  
"I am not!"  
  
Both men grinned at each other, in silent agreement that revenge had been well served. Lily stormed out of the kitchen, clearly as furious with herself as she was with them.   
  
"Really, my dear, you have to brush up on your stealth operations" - James avoided his wife's fist - "or at least take into account who you're dealing with before commencing your nefarious missions of espionage."  
  
Sirius nodded in agreement, then winced slightly as Lily's fist finally made contact with James' shoulder. A look of acute pain crossed the latter's features, and Sirius sympathized with his friend, for while Lily was of slight build, she could beat most of their group into painful submission if given half the chance. (Sirius privately referred to this ability as the Law of the Enraged Redhead.)  
  
Once James' shoulder was out of commission indefinitely, Lily rounded on Sirius, fully prepared to deliver her ire unto the dark-haired man.   
  
Fortunately for Sirius, the doorbell rang. Sirius knew he had never heard a more holy sound as Lily stepped towards the door.  
  
"Remus! We thought you weren't coming - you're dreadfully late," Lily berated, as the werewolf made his way into the foyer. James rubbed his shoulder, eyeing his friend accusingly.  
  
"How long have you been watching through the window, Remus?" James demanded unceremoniously.   
  
Remus merely smiled placidly in response. James and Sirius exchanged equally vexed looks, as if to say "He's been here the whole time, the bugger."   
  
Said bugger, known to most as Remus, noticed his friends' shared irritation, and had the grace to look apologetic. He then turned his attention to Sirius, who immediately slung his arm over his friend's shoulders, Remus' earlier transgressions apparently forgiven.  
  
"So, Moony! Howls it going?" Sirius inquired, straight-faced.  
  
Or perhaps he plans to punish me, Remus thought stoically, letting himself be led into the Potters' family room. He turned towards the Animagus, and answered frankly:  
  
"Not too grim, Sirius. One might even say my life's stellar right now."  
  
"Good to hear - it sure is a dog's life, you know."   
  
"Yeah, but the future doesn't look too black to me, seriously," Remus finished quietly, not missing a beat.  
  
"Seriously, you guys had better stop, lest I decide to throw you to the dogs," James interrupted, though his tone was more entertained than exasperated. "Really, how are you Remus?"   
  
"Same old, same old," Remus answered genially. "What about you guys?"  
  
"Well," James began, smiling at Sirius, "Padfoot here's decided to be Harry's godfather."  
  
"Only 'cause I was bored," Sirius protested weakly, trying to keep up his hard-core image, and failing. He was obviously delighted, if not a little embarrassed, about the honour bestowed upon him.   
  
Remus was then hit with a wonderful, brilliant, evil idea.  
  
"Lily, James," he said suddenly, turning to address the two parents. "How can you be sure Sirius is fit to uphold such a position? I mean, we're all very familiar with how idiotic, immature, rash and corrupting he is.."  
  
"Hey!" Sirius apparently had a problem with this description of himself and chose to voice his disapproval, though this had no effect.  
  
"Oh, hush - you know it's true. Anyway, as I was saying, shouldn't you put his devotion to this to the test? This is an important decision you two are making, after all. Not that I don't trust Sirius, it's just..no, wait - that's exactly it. I've never trusted Sirius, seeing as though I'm sane..."  
  
"Moony - "   
  
"Hush, I say!" Remus snapped at Sirius, his patience for the latter's heart-felt interruptions plainly at an end. "Now, I, for one, would feel a lot better if he was given a ... job interview, shall we say."  
  
"A job interview," Lily echoed, intrigued by the possibilities of revenge she could enact through said test. "Of what kind?"  
  
"Oh, this is ridiculous," James sputtered, offended that his choice of godfather was under scrutiny. "Sirius is the right guy for the job, aren't you, Padfoot ... Padfoot?"  
  
Apparently James' judgment had indeed been misguided, as Sirius was currently stalking a fly on the Venetian blinds, and had been doing so since being hushed for the second time by Remus.   
  
Utterly oblivious to his captivated audience, he pounced.   
  
The fly did not move.   
  
Sirius reached towards the string responsible for the lifting of the blinds.   
  
The fly did not move.  
  
His hand closed around the little tab attached to the string and tensed his muscles.  
  
The fly did not move.  
  
Sirius gave a vicious yank on the string, and the blinds contracted together, crushing the fly between metal. After a second or so, Sirius released the pressure on the string, letting the blinds drop a little to render the fly's remains visible.  
  
The fly twitched its wings.  
  
The same mashing process was repeated, though this time with increased violence and speed. When all was quiet, and the fly was unmoving, Sirius turned back towards his friends. Confused by their scandalized, incredulous and, in James' case, horrified expressions, he attempted to explain.  
  
"I had to do it, guys. It was challenging my authority."  
  
James spun on his heel, heaved a deep breath, spun back, and proclaimed,  
  
"Sirius, your test is this: Harry needs diapers. You are to fetch them. Now."  
  
"Bu-"  
  
"No buts. You must prove yourself worthy," James dictated, with an undeniable finality that even Sirius recognized. Discouraged slightly, he turned to his lycanthropic friend.   
  
"Remus, you can't let him - "  
  
"Padfoot, right now my thoughts on your intelligence are as follows: your IQ is room temperature in Celsius. There, I said it!" Sirius put his hands up in defeat, not wanting to get Remus all emotional, and appealed to Lily.   
  
"Lily, this is completely unfounded, I'm - "  
  
"A questionable individual? Yes. Get out of my house, and don't come back until you have diapers." Sirius, now desperate for sympathy from any corner, gave a plaintiff:  
  
"Guys - "  
  
"Sirius, do I have to hex you?" James never had had much patience for Sirius' whining, though in the past this usually worked in the latter's favor.   
  
"No, Prongs," Sirius all but whispered, all the fight gone out of him. Defeat was at hand, indubitably. James indicated the door, (which Sirius found very insulting, as he did know where it was located) and said:  
  
"Good. Now begone."  
  


*end flashback*  
  


Sirius glowered formidably, staring down the display of diapers that was, at this moment, his most hated enemy, Snape included. He decided that the blue, stretchy ones looked pretty spiffy, and carted those off to the front register.  
  
Suzy was chatting to an old woman when Sirius reached the cash register, but a sexy toss of his head fixed that quickly. She scampered over to ring him up, while the old woman looked at Sirius appreciatively, which creeped him out more than a bit.   
  
"Mrs Wallace, I'll only be a minute," Suzy called to the old woman, who didn't seem to care, as all her attention was on Sirius. She leaned towards him, a kindly look on her face.  
  
"Isn't she a pretty girl, Suzy? You should take a page out of her book, yes siree!"  
  
Suzy froze in horror, and Sirius wondered which one of them was more insulted.   
  
"Excuse me?!" he intoned disbelievingly, pleased to hear that his voice had none of the androgynous qualities supposedly attributed to his appearance. Mrs. Wallace looked properly shocked. She opened her mouth and froze, not knowing who to apologize to first.   
  
Or at least, that's what Sirius thought her pause indicated.  
  
"ACHOO!"  
  
Sirius blinked, wondering if she'd really just sneezed in his face or if his mind was merely fabricating the next hellish occurrence in the series of blood-curdling events that had composed his evening.  
  
"Sorry, sonny - I get a draft when the door's left open."   
  
And then she waddled off towards the lottery display, totally unrepentant.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sirius collected his change from Suzy, and they commiserated mutely over the injustice of it all . He then readjusted his leather coat, ran his fingers through his hair, collected his package of diapers and strode cockily out the door into the night.  
  


* * *  
  


And now the part you've all been waiting for: the second part! (If anyone gets that reference, I have only this to say: Spark is a dork.)  
  
All right, this first chapter sets up two things readers should know about: firstly, the plot (look closely, it's there, I promise) and secondly, the format in which the plot will unfold. The format is this: present day - flashback to random points in the Marauders' lives - present day.   
  
And there shall be no chapters that fall into cliche. Well, maybe two, but everybody loves a good cliche, damnit.   
  
Book Five will be taken into consideration in regards to Sirius' and the Marauders' pasts, despite my... issues with it.  
  
I am so open to suggestions and requests that it's scary... I guarantee to respond to all insightful reviews, and am more than willing to discuss anything and everything you may or may not have concerns with. Remember that when you leave a nice, long, thesaurus-aided review - don't be scared! I'm an extrovert, and you people are all so beautiful, so very, very beautiful...  
  
Sorry for the lengthy author's notes - I tend to go wild with these... ^_^  
  
NEXT TIME: Motorbikes, leather jackets and fainting, oh my! And, what danger lurks behind the acronym "DB"? Tune in next chapter to find out! 


	2. Highway Star

Disclaimer: Not mine, but Buddha says it's only a matter of time.  
  
RANDOM EVENT OF THE CHAPTER   
Recommended Listening:  
- Ride on shooting star by The Pillows   
- Radar Love by Golden Earring   
- Highway Star by Deep Purple  
- Driver's High by l'arc~en~ciel   
- Heaven's Drive by l'arc~en~ciel   
  
Dedication(s): (which I forgot to do in the first chapter, because that would make sense, and we can't have that, now can we?) To **Rainsong**, who is as good at writing as she is at giving advice and to **Caitlin**, **Kayla**, **Sarah** and **Heather**, my real-life Marauders, who will no doubt recognize themselves popping up now and then in cameo appearances...heheh.   


  
* * *  
  
Chapter 2: Highway Star  
  


Sirius observed the speedometer with calm indifference as it climbed, noting that should he hit a solid object going at his current speed, his death would probably be instantaneous. Not exactly a comforting thought, but then again, he was wearing a helmet, so his good looks would probably be preserved.   
  
Live hard, die young, leave a good looking corpse, Sirius thought to himself, mentally thanking James Dean for giving him a motto.  
  
Checking the speedometer again, Sirius decided that 95 miles per hour was a damn fine cruising speed, and stopped accelerating. After all, he was venting over the completely unjust treatment he had received over the course of his evening. First he'd been humiliated by his oldest and dearest friends, then sent on a cruel and unusual mission, which had cumulated to his being called a woman by some old crone, who had promptly sneezed in his face.  
  
All in all, he felt horribly violated. As far as Sirius was concerned, his pride, dignity and self-esteem had all been annihilated with extreme prejudice. All he had left was his sexiness, but even that had probably been compromised when the old bird had flung her snot on his face, because who knew what disease she'd been carrying?  
  
Sirius resisted the strong urge to check in his mirrors for signs of developing leprosy.  
  
The only good thing about the entire situation was that things couldn't possibly get any worse. The second this thought formed in Sirius' mind, he felt like crying, for he knew that this theory would backfire most spectacularly on him. When would he learn that challenging Murphy's Law would only cause the wrath of the heavens to rain down upon him?  
  
Probably never, the Animagus sulked, his fingers itching to squeeze the throttle. The need for speed was a hard thing to ignore, so Sirius soon found himself watching the infamous speedometer climb up to 100 miles per hour, where he forced himself to stop. For now.   
  
After about 10 minutes of breakneck speed, Sirius felt himself relax. He loved his motorbike more than he could put into words, and felt he had ample reason. D.B. was a high-performance, beautifully designed piece of machinery in his own personal opinion, which was only slightly biased. But then again, he wasn't the only one to worship D.B. Sirius' biker gang acquaintances had often told him that she's sure a great machine, Black, really sexy on more than one occasion.  
  
Sirius didn't have problems accepting compliments (practice makes perfect, and he did get a lot of practice), but he did have problems seeing how an inanimate object could be sexy. He assumed it was a good thing, but was if it was really some sort of sick fetish? Sirius couldn't get his mind around it - he was very sexy, girls were sometimes sexy, but a motorbike? Was there any precedent for that?  
  
Unfortunately, his musings were cut short when he noticed that D.B. was gradually gaining altitude.   
  
Weird, he thought, mentally going over the times the same thing had happened in the past. The only event that came to mind was the time when his duffel bag had fallen off the back of D.B. during a trip to Remus' house... But his duffel bag wasn't with him currently.  
  
Sirius thought harder, trying to figure out how this applied to the present situation. Something that fell off...  
  
Then it hit him, like a wet fish slapped across the face. Sirius slowly looked down at England below him, his horror mounting faster than the speedometer ever did.  
  
And there it was, his hard-earned package of diapers, in the middle of a graceful descent towards Earth.   
  
For a second, all Sirius could hear was D.B.'s throaty rumble, the wind whipping around his ears, the pounding of his heart and the silence of the diapers hurtling through the sky towards the ground - the mute scream of his future being flushed down the toilet.  
  
Then, Sirius let out a string of expletives he felt were entirely appropriate to the situation. He plunged his hand into his jacket pocket, frantically searching for his wand. His fingers found the stick-shaped object quickly, and he brandished it without looking, uttering the charm that would save his diapers.  
  
Thank God for Wingardium Leviosa,' Sirius breathed, infinitely grateful to whoever had invented the levitation charm. His eyes followed the diapers' trajectory, and he was more than a little confused as to why they were continuing to fall at an alarming rate.   
  
Sirius shook his wand a bit, hoping it would react in the same positive manner his bike did when he kicked it, then tried again. Nothing.  
  
It was Sirius realized he was holding a pencil.  
  
The universe hated him, there was no other possible explanation.  
  


*1977 - Summer of 6th year*  
  


The universe hates me, James. There's no other possible explanation.  
  
James Potter stared up at his live-in best friend from his position sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor. Sirius lay sprawled across James' once-neatly made bed in an angst-ridden fashion, arm thrown over his face. Every so often he would repeat these two sentences, and James was starting to get annoyed.  
  
Sirius, I'm sure the universe realizes that it has no reason to hate you from its divine perspective, seeing as though there are many non-omnipotent people here on Earth that are willing to perform the same service.   
  
This was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Sirius moaned theatrically before responding.  
  
So hating me is a service now, is it? I suppose there are job applications and everything... he pouted, rolling off the bed and taking half the bed cover with him. James dodged a stray foot as Sirius flopped down on the floor beside him, a mass of heavy fabric and teenager. Though it does sound like more fun than working at a gas station...  
  
Come on - it won't be that bad and you know it, James reasoned, as Sirius attempted to make a poncho with the bed cover. It's not the end of the world as we know it, Siri. Just admit it, it'll be a good experience, working as a gas attendant.  
  
I'd prefer the experience of holing myself up in your room for all eternity like some sort of urban hermit, thankyouverymuch, Sirius moped, peeking out at his friend from beneath the impressive pile of cloth that now included not only the bed cover, but the sheets as well. He reached for the comforter folded on a chair next to James' bed.  
  
Don't you think you've had enough, James chastised, getting up and removing the comforter from Sirius' immediate reach. Get up. We're going downstairs to tell my mum that you'll do it.  
  
Sirius questioned, sounding immensely skeptical. Are you sure your participation isn't going to end with throwing me down the stairs?  
  
The stag Animagus merely smirked, responding with a cryptic:   
  
We'll see.  
  
Can I take my bed cover and sheets?  
  
You mean MY bed cover and sheets? No. You've now been officially cut off.  
  
Sirius sulked, extricating himself from his fabric shelter.  
  
Sirius was surprised when James did not throw him down the stairs, but in fact accompanied him to the family room, where Mrs. Potter sat reading. She looked up from her book (Why Our Bickering Is Utterly Misunderstood: A Memoir*) as they entered. James sat down in the sofa opposite her, and Sirius followed suit, looking like someone walking off a gangplank.  
  
Mrs. Potter began, addressing Sirius. Have you thought it over, Sirius?  
  
Sirius nodded, feeling a bit guilty over his previous sentiment towards her request. All she wanted was for him to get a summer job at the nearest gas station, after all. He supposed he owed Mrs. Potter at least that much, considering his behaviour the previous summer. Sirius had practically moved into her home without a moment's notice, and the woman hadn't even blinked (long since conditioned, no doubt, to the highly random behaviours of her son and his friends). He realized that he'd never be able to look Mrs. Potter (or James, for that matter) in the face again if he said no.   
  
I-I've decided to apply at the gas station tomorrow. Morning, Sirius added quickly, knowing Mrs. Potter had a soft spot for early risers. She beamed at him, clearly pleased.  
  
I was so hoping you would. Now, James, Mrs. Potter began, and James did a very accurate dear-in-the-headlights impression (while Sirius suppressed the mad desire to snicker). Where are you going to work?  
  
James did a double-take, glanced at Sirius, found no comfort in the sadistic way he was grinning, gulped and faced his mother.  
  
Pardon me, Mum?   
  
Well, it's only fair that I treat you the same way I treat Sirius, she explained, to Sirius' emphatic nodding. James adopted an incredulous look, clearly not liking that one bit.  
  
How is that fair? I'm your adored son; he's - James made a rather violent gesture towards an innocent-looking Sirius - the idiotic, ungrateful, irritating friend of your adored son! Even his own parents think he's a ne'er-do-well, for heaven's sake! He's rude, impulsive and inconsiderate - just look at how he pretty much invited himself to live here, Mum! No warning or anything - he's just feeding off your good-nature, like a leech or something! And remember when he broke that lamp last week? He's a menace - I'd have kicked him out a long time ago. He's like a destructive, free-loading, unappreciative plague! Plagues don't get treated fairly, Mum, they get eradicated from the Earth!   
  
Mrs. Potter merely raised an eyebrow.  
  
Gee, Prongs, thanks for being a friend, Sirius intoned sarcastically, rolling his eyes.  
  
James, I'm going to ignore that speech, creative as it was, and assume you're going to the gas station tomorrow morning with Sirius to apply for a job, Mrs. Potter said, calmly as you please. Oh, and I'd advise the both of you to dress nicely tomorrow if you want to make a good first impression, they are important, you know.  
  
Then she picked up her novel and resumed reading.  
  
James and Sirius took their leave quickly, elbowing each other all the way up the stairs.   
  
/the next morning/  
  
I have nothing to wear! Sirius wailed, effectively shattering the peaceful morning. James, already dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, gazed upwards, unsure whether he had the patience to deal with this.  
  
Sirius, you have, like, sixteen thousands suits.  
  
Yeah, disco suits!  
  
  
  
Disco suits, James! That's all I brought with me from The Crypt, the black-haired teenager explained, using his pet name' for his previous dwelling. James stared at his friend, then shook his head as if to clear it.  
  
Let me see if I'm understanding the situation: the only dress outfits you packed and brought to my house are disco suits. And that the rest of your formal wear is back at Grimmauld Place, James stated. Sirius nodded miserably. You are the thickest, most unthinking -  
  
James didn't even bother to finish his sentence, as Sirius had already found the solution to his problem.  
  
Screw it - I'm wearin' leather! he proclaimed, doing justice to his devil-may-care attitude.   
  
Minutes later, they were strolling down the street, James in his white dress shirt and black slacks, Sirius in his jeans and leather jacket, complete with his prized Ray Ban sunglasses.   
  
Damnit, Padfoot - you make me look like a schoolboy, James grumbled as they rounded a corner. Why is it always all or nothing' with you?  
  
Sirius only grinned.  
  
They arrived just in time for James' interview, which left Sirius alone to explore the suburban gas station.  
  
What he found didn't exactly thrill him. For one thing, the loo was a no-go. Secondly, the food in the convenience store was atrociously overpriced. Thirdly, no one seemed to be stopping by to fill up, so Sirius couldn't people-watch, an activity he thoroughly enjoyed.  
  
After doing the full circle of the establishment, Sirius set about exploring the seedy underbelly of the gas station. To his great disappointment, there didn't seem to be one. The only rooms were the manager's office, the unapproachable bathroom and, if it could be counted as a room, the cashier's desk. (The cashier himself was a rather disgruntled-looking teenager with a mullet, who Sirius opted not to talk to, since he found mullets to be the work of the Devil.)   
  
Thus, Sirius was immensely bored by the time James' interview ended, reduced to playing with his sunglasses to pass the time.  
  
Mr. Black? We're ready to begin your interview, the manager finally announced, holding the door open for Sirius, who wondered who referred to, as the manager was clearly the only one interviewing him, and he was certainly not royalty. He also wondered where James had gone off to. (Sirius assumed his friend had embarked on a mission to find entertainment in the gas station, not unlike his own fruitless one, and wished James luck.)  
  
Sirius entered the office, which contained a potted plant that was obviously in the process of dying, a cheap wood desk and two cushionless chairs. The manager sat down behind the desk after he and Sirius shook hands, introducing himself as Claude Winchester.  
  
Winchester, great - hope he's not some sort of gun-toting, psycho manager, thought Sirius, eyeing the bald, fifty-something year old with disguised suspicion.  
  
Well, now, Mr. Black, your resume states that you currently go to a prestigious boarding school, is that correct?  
  
The teen blinked, confused as to when he had ever handed in a resume, since he'd only told Mrs. Potter yesterday that -  
  
Mrs. Potter. She'd known he was incapable of refusing, so the conniving woman had sent it in for him. Sirius didn't know whether to be angry or reverent.  
  
Yes, that's right. I've only got one year left till I graduate, and then its university for me! Sirius explained, figuring he might as well run with the muggle thing, but desperately hoping a name for this prestigious boarding school' wouldn't be required.  
  
University, eh? In what field?  
  
Sirius replied immediately, not having a clue what that was but assuming it had something to do with the movement of the stars or some divination crap.  
  
Mr. Winchester stared at Sirius incredulously for a few seconds before continuing. Well, at least it isn't rocket science, eh? Eh?  
  
He then began to laugh uproariously. Sirius offered a few weak chuckles, trying not to look or sound as confused as he felt.  
  
Right, good one, sir... he told the manager, wondering if James had noticed how insane the man clearly was.   
  
The rest of his interview was hugely boring by Sirius' standards (which, granted, also considered a day without pranking a day wasted). It was rare that he was asked a question he could respond to legitimately, so most of the time he had to improvise his answers. By the end of the interview, Sirius had established himself as a badminton-loving, outdoors-y type amateur astrophysicist/garage band lead singer. Who spoke French (which was true) and Yiddish (which was a stretch, although he could tell people to explode themselves in the language). He wore leather because his family owned a cow farm, and it was all they could afford, naturally. (This statement of poverty had turned out to be a bad choice, since it had prompted several uncomfortable questions about his Ray Bans, which he had found in the garbage at the country club where he had played his first badminton tournament. Obviously.)   
  
Despite all this, he must have sounded pretty convincing, since Mr. Winchester hired him in the end. (Sirius wished he would also hire a gardener to water his dying potted plant, which Sirius, at the height of his boredom, had identified as a spider plant.) He would start work the following evening at midnight, Mr. Winchester informed him, as he would be working the graveyard shift. This title sounded ominous to Sirius, but who was he to judge.   
  
He exited the office feeling fairly good about himself, and immediately began to search for James. Sirius' search ended quickly, as James was standing near the front of the store, observing the mullet-wearing cashier with a forlorn expression. Sirius stopped beside him, and they watched the cashier together.  
  
Can you believe it, James croaked, that's going to be me tomorrow evening!  
  
Sirius offered pragmatically. You get the midnight to eight shift?  
  
  
  
James looked relieved to hear this, and held out his hand for Sirius to shake. Sirius took it, and they exchanged a hearty, if not sarcastic, handshake.   
  
/the following evening/  
  
James tapped his fingers against the plastic counter, trying to remember the last time he had felt so bored. Sirius was trying to get into the manager's office, as he was on a commando to try to save the spider plant from certain death.  
  
Sirius screamed, completely out of the blue. James leapt a foot in the air, fully prepared for a tank to come crashing into the convenience store. What time is it?  
  
You fucking nearly gave me a coronary, you git!   
  
Sorry. So, what time is it? Sirius asked again, not sounding very apologetic. James snorted derisively.  
  
Oh, yes, I'm _definitely_ going to give you the time, _especially_ now after you've put me at risk for heart failure. He rolled his eyes, then noticed something interesting on the wall over the doorway, something that made him want to liquefy Sirius' organs. Oh, look Padfoot - a clock! Imagine that! Now you don't have to scream at random people for the time anymore, isn't that grand?!  
  
Sirius gazed up at the clock skeptically.  
  
Cripes, it's only ten after one... I dunno, James. If I look up at that clock, I'll have to crane my neck upwards, and that could hurt after a while. But if I just ask you, I don't have to move my neck at all, which is a better deal, don'cha think?  
  
James seethed, practically shaking from the effort to remain calm.  
  
  
  
I hate you. So very, very much.  
  
Sirius didn't seem too perturbed to hear this, possibly because the words had lost their impact around the 60th time James had said them.  
  
And so, the monotony continued.  
  
Finally, at around half past two in the morning, a motorbike pulled up to the station.   
  
James and Sirius clustered around the window excitedly, hoping this newcomer would reveal to them how one used the pumps, a question which had been plaguing them ever since they got the job. They were only vaguely familiar with how a muggle gas station worked, most of this knowledge coming from Mrs. Potter, who had several muggle friends (the same muggle friends who had informed her that the gas station was looking for employees). It occurred to the two Animaguses that they should probably find out how it worked, despite the fact that the station was self-serve and that their responsibility began and ended with handling the cash register. They had nothing better to do, after all.  
  
So it was with great anticipation that Sirius and James watched the driver dismount from his motorbike, which Sirius thought was a very spiffy machine. (But then again, maybe that was just his natural fondness for all things black and shiny talking.)  
  
Oi, Padfoot, get a load of this sod, James nudged his friend, drawing his attention away from the bike and back to its driver. Sirius quickly assessed the man, looking for the source of James' amusement, and began to snicker almost immediately.  
  
What the hell do you reckon he's thinking, wearing a ski mask in the middle of the summer? Sirius scoffed, grinning at James, who only shrugged in comic bewilderment.   
  
They could hardly contain their laughter as the man entered the convenience store. He made a beeline for the cashier's desk, and began waving around a dark metal object in his hand, yelling:  
  
All right, gimme all the money! Hurry up!  
  
James and Sirius looked at each other, then back at the man, then at the cash register.  
  
James wondered aloud, addressing the man in the ski mask, who only intensified his screaming.  
  
C'mon, what are you, daft? Gimme the money or else I'll shoot, he warned. Sirius blinked, trying to make sense out of this strange behaviour.  
  
Shoot what? Sirius stepped out from behind the desk, followed closely by James. He studied the object the man held in his hand for a minute. You mean that thing?  
  
What the ruddy else would I shoot at you loonies?! the man shouted in an exasperated and slightly desperate voice. Sirius frowned, not liking this particular customer's attitude.  
  
Well, you don't have to get all high and mighty about it, he scolded, crossing his arms and leaning back against the desk. James had other ideas, and walked closer to the man.  
  
Get back!! I'll shoot, I swear I will!   
  
James ignored this, as well as the weapon now pointed directly at his head, and continued advancing, an inquisitive look on his face. He turned to Sirius, who was equally interested in this recent turn of events.  
  
Hey, Siri, d'you think he's holding one of those.. oh, what do they call em... one of those gun-thingies? Sirius contemplated this for a moment before nodding.  
  
Yeah, that would make sense, wouldn't it? Wonder what it does...  
  
Let's find out, James suggested, turning back to the man with the mysterious gun. Can I see that?  
  
I'M GONNA BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF, YOU STUPID KID!! GET THE HELL BACK!!   
  
  
  
Not very friendly, is he James?  
  
You know, I have this funny feeling we're supposed to feel threatened... James said thoughtfully. Sirius, however, shook his head dismissively.  
  
Nah. Let him shoot the gun-thingy. I wanna see what happens.  
  
This seemed to settle it, and the two wizards stepped forward, Sirius coming up to stand beside James.  
  
I can't take this! the gun-wielding man shrieked, not experienced in dealing with people unafraid of armed criminals. He threw down his gun and bolted from the store, racing towards his motorbike. Sirius looked stricken as James picked up the gun.  
  
James, he's gonna take away the motorbike, he whined, clearly having formed an attachment to the machine. James gazed at his friend sympathetically, thinking that Sirius should get something out of the frustrating ordeal, as James had gotten the rather intriguing gun.  
  
Just then, the sound of police sirens filled the air. James and Sirius shared looks of genuine confusion, before realization hit the latter.  
  
Oooh, I must have hit the alarm-thingy under the counter when he started waving his gun-thingy at us!  
  
Why? That's for emergencies, James demanded, surprised that Sirius had jumped to such a conclusion. Sirius shrugged uncaringly.  
  
Beats me. Guess I just like pushing buttons when I'm bored. Or maybe it's some sort of inborn reflex I didn't know I had, that only happens when someone in a ski mask - He cut himself off abruptly, focusing his attention on the drama happening outside. The man was trying to pull out of the station onto the open road, but the police car pulled in front of his path at the last second. Sirius groaned as the motorbike went into a skid, the driver clearly trying to avoid collision. Oh, man, he's gonna kill the tires...  
  
Sirius and James decided to go outside to get a closer look, arriving in time to hear the man in the ski mask complain:  
  
And I would've gotten away with it too, if it hadn't been for those meddling kids... Sirius shook his head matter-of-factly.  
  
No, he would've gotten away with it if his motorbike could fly, he explained to James (who nodded in enthusiastic agreement) and the nearest police officer (who attributed it to shock). The same police officer then began questioning them concernedly.   
  
Are you boys all right? We've called your manager, he'll be here in a few minutes -  
  
What are you going to do with the motorbike, officer? Sirius interrupted, not caring too much about the impending arrival of their plant-killing manager. James punched him in the shoulder, giving his friend a look that clearly said: Let the nice police man talk, you dork!  
  
The motorbike? Officer Kavanagh repeated, unnerved slightly by how calm the two teenagers in front of him were, considering they'd just been held at gunpoint. Well, it'll be impounded, then auctioned off -  
  
You can't do that! Sirius yelped, as James slapped a hand against his forehead, deciding that his friend hadn't an ounce of patience in him.  
  
And why not?  
  
Because I want it, that's why! the young wizard replied, with no small amount of stubbornness. James determined that now would be a good time to step in.  
  
Look, my friend's an idiot, but he really wants the bike. How about we trade for it - that motorbike for my gun-thingy, he offered, pulling out his newly-acquired firearm. The police officer jumped back, eyes wide.   
  
Now put the gun down, I'm sure we can work this all out, he told James, attempting to sound placating. James frowned.  
  
Yeah, sure - just take the gun-thingy and we'll take the motorbike! This isn't complicated, he repeated, not quite sure why the officer looked so nervous.   
  
Shoot the gun-thingy, Prongs, show him it works. He probably doesn't want to get ripped off, Sirius suggested. James rolled his eyes at his friend, then stated the obvious.  
  
Well, I _would_, Padfoot, except I don't know how it freaking works! Sirius waved his hand in a nonchalant manner.  
  
James, what do I always tell you? Pull the trigger; it's _always_ the trigger. He then paused. Or the red button. If there's a red button, push that.  
  
James, however, didn't get the chance to try this, as another police officer was rolling the motorbike up to where they stood.  
  
Okay, boys - we're not unwilling to negotiate. Now just give us the gun, we'll give you the motorbike, everybody forgets the whole thing and goes home happy, the second officer advised, not truly caring if that went against protocol. It was nearly three in the morning, the end of their shift, and damned if they were going to worry about a stupid motorbike that some dumbass kid wanted.  
  
That's what I told you guys, James complained, peeved beyond even his legendary endurance. Sirius was in the throes of ecstasy as he took the handlebars of his newest possession, oblivious to his friend's vexation. Take the bloody thing!  
  
The unfortunate police officer barely caught the gun that was thrown at him at high speed, to James' small joy.  
  
Mr. Winchester pulled up at that moment, dashing from his beat-up Mini towards James and Sirius, who were preparing to leave.  
  
Boys! Are you hurt? Did the police catch the robber?  
  
Robber? Were we being robbed? James asked Sirius, who pondered this for a moment before realizing he didn't care, as long as he had his motorbike. James made the arbitrary decision that the man had, in fact, been trying to rob them. Yeah, the police caught him.  
  
That's wonderful! And you two are sure you're fine, the manager pressed, not wanting to lose his newest employees. You'll be coming back to work tomorrow evening, right?  
  
James laughed in his face before climbing onto the motorbike behind Sirius. He estimated his mother wouldn't be too angry that they quit after they had been yelled at so much (not to mention nearly being robbed on their first shift).  
  
Hey, Sirius, do you know how to drive this thing? James asked in an offhanded way, not really concerned.  
  
I'll figure it out as I go along, and she's not a thing, she's D.B.  
  
  
  
Yeah - you know how muggles always name their boats and stuff after women? I'm willing to bet it's the same thing for motorbikes, Sirius explained.  
  
What woman do you know by the name of D.B.? James continued, not quite sure how Sirius had come to all these conclusions, but entirely willing to go along with it.  
  
I don't - it's an acronym.  
  
Is it now, the spectacle-wearing teen stated, interested. For what?  
  
Daft bint.  
  
No wonder you don't have a girlfriend... James mused as they roared off into the night, Sirius apparently having figured out how the motorbike worked.   
  
So, James, Sirius began, ignoring the jab about his lovelife, or lack thereof. Know any good flight charms?  
  


*end flashback*  
  


Without even bothering to pause this time for dramatic effect, Sirius pulled his beloved D.B. into a nosedive, ignoring the protests of common sense (in particular the one voice that kept asking: Is your life really worth diapers?). The engine rose to the challenge marvelously, and he was level with the diapers within seconds. Grabbing them ferociously, Sirius felt a keen sense of relief overwhelm him.  
  
That was before he saw the chimney.  
  
Sirius didn't even have the presence of mind to curse as he practically flung himself (and the diapers) off the bike in a last-ditch effort to turn it in time. His effort was successful, although Sirius would later swear a lasting fear of chimneys had developed from this incident.  
  
Sirius told himself as he rocketed D.B. upwards. He looked at his speedometer.   
  
he repeated, clearly surprised his motorbike went that fast. Sirius suddenly became aware of the numbing pain spreading in his fingers, as well as an acute sensation of nausea. Carefully, he loosened his white-knuckle grip on the throttle until his speed was safer. Sirius did not, however, relinquish any slack to the pack of diapers he clasped in his other hand. (Oh sure - steering a motorbike with one hand was risky, but Sirius thought the risks balanced themselves out quite nicely when one considered what had happened when he'd given priority to the motorbike over the diapers.)  
  
The rest of the ride back to the Potters' house was a lot worse than it should have been, as the nausea Sirius had experienced was only growing steadily worse. He began to have difficulty keeping D.B. flying straight, but attributed this sudden motion sickness to the rather impressive flying stunts he had just pulled.  
  
Had Sirius been slightly more lucid, he would have realized that the nausea had not begun after his death-defying motorbike ride, but in the minutes before. Specifically, in the window of time taking place after he had left the corner store and before the diapers had fallen off. This didn't occur to Sirius at all, which was unfortunate, as knowing you are becoming very sick is often a good way to fend it off. Ah well.  
  
Finally, Sirius parked his motorbike in front of the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow. He wavered on his feet slightly as he made his way up to the front door, but this, he reasoned, was the result of the package of diapers in his right hand, which was throwing off his balance.  
  
Sirius had just raised his hand to knock on the door, when James threw it open, having spotted Sirius (with the required diapers) coming up the walkway.   
  
Sirius! Way to go! To be honest, I was getting a bit worried, seeing as though it took you a bloody long time, but hey, you did it, right? ... Padfoot?  
  
For the second time that evening, Sirius had horrified his best friend, for he had fainted, still holding his now-legendary package of diapers.  
  


* * *  
  


* This line belongs to **Rainsong**, as seen in her hilarious fic At The Opera. AtO is the most brilliant piece of dialogue I've ever read, and I strongly suggest that everyone gives it a read (and a review, of course!). Go revel in a genius much greater than my own.  
**  
Reviews:**  
**Esper AuqaBlue: **Hi, Matt. You spelled wrong. Just for future reference. ^_~  
**DBZ Raven: **Okay, okay! No need to bring out the sharp, pointy stuff! Ah, well - at least you're easy to please (and flattering too). Thanx for the (lengthy) review.   
**Rainsong: **Words cannot express, but thank you and you are my hero come to mind... :)**  
sailoranime: **Just diapers? Let's hope Sirius didn't hear you say that... Yes, our dear Padfoot was mistaken for a girl, as I hope I cleared up in this chapter. Woohoo! Favorites list! *blushes* Thanks a lot!   
**Momo: **You're such a dork!   
**LelahLupinIII: ** Thank you, and don't worry, you're not alone in the post-OotP angst. There's always AU, at least.   
  
See, people who review get acknowledged. Now wouldn't you like that? Go review - all the cool kids are doing it.  
  
And yes, I've decided that Sirius speaks French fluently. This was inspired partly by the Black family motto (toujours pur, which means always pure in French, but you all knew that) and partly because I'm a fluent French-speaker, too. And partly because (RANT ALERT) I'm tired of people thinking they can translate word for word, because if there's any language in which you absolutely CANNOT do this, it's French. Note: Moi amour toi doesn't mean I love you, damnit (END RANT). But then again, Remus seems more the French type, doesn't he? Ah well. Going against stereotypes is always good for shits and giggles, right? Right.   
  
NEXT TIME: In which Sirius is bedridden, Remus rents movies and Lily decides she's _so_ above all this. Coming soon to a webpage near you!


	3. Great, the only good title doesn't fit

Disclaimer: *sigh* Harry Potter's not mine, and never will be, because the SARS virus has given up my cause. Damn fickle respiratory syndrome....  
  
RANDOM EVENT OF THE CHAPTER  
An anonymous quote for post-OotP Sirius fans:  
I'm not in denial. I'm just selective of the reality I choose to accept.  
So select away!  
  
IMPORTANT: Read the author's notes at the end. They are stupid and pointless for a while, but important information is disclosed therein. And they're slightly humourous. If you want to laugh at me. Which everyone most certainly does...  
  
Aaannnd a random message from my beta, Alexandrea-Riddle, who seems to feel she can invade my fic any time she damn well pleases.  
  
Hello. Beta here. The one that has lost all privileges. You need to read the end or else. The or else' is I'm gonna find you and rant because I had to live through the I have mental block stage. YOU DIDN'T~!~  
  
Thanks for that. Now everyone thinks I'm a psychopath. Great.  
  


* * *  
  
Chapter 3: A Night at the Movies, A Day at the Therapist's  
  


For a second, James stood paralyzed, staring at Sirius' prone figure. Half of him had managed to make it into the foyer, while the other half artfully decorated the welcome mat outside the door. James wondered how Sirius had managed to fall forwards, as the human body was proportioned in such a way as to avoid that from happening.   
  
Chalk it up as one of life's great mysteries, James surmised, scratching his head absentmindedly. As the stag Animagus deliberated over what to do with his fainted friend, Lily made her appearance.  
  
What on earth is taking you so lon- she cut herself off, fixing James with a hard look. What, exactly, is Sirius doing on the ground?  
  
He fainted, her husband explained, with all the details available.  
  
Did he now. Was the sheer stress of getting diapers simply too much for him to take? Lily smirked, apparently unaware of the ghastly trials a man went through when he was sent to buy diapers. James gaped at her utter lack of sympathy, incapable of defending Sirius' honor against such a cold-hearted remark. Come on, James, you thought I wouldn't recognize a prank when it stares me in the face? You two were obviously conspiring against me.   
  
Why would we do that?! came James' highly affronted reply.   
  
Have you two ever needed a reason for your actions, James? Honestly, you could at least have the decency to apologize instead of denying the whole thing!  
  
The hell, Lily! James eloquently shot back, refusing to back down after such awful accusations. Sirius really is unconscious! Or dead. I actually haven't checked for a pulse.  
  
I don't care if Sirius has a pulse or not! The point is that I caught on to the both of you before you could unleash whatever heinous prank you had in mind, hence you were, and I hate to say it, foiled.  
  
We were NOT foiled! One does not just go about foiling the likes of us, dear! James shrieked in protest, rather unwisely.  
  
Oh, so now you admit that there was something to foil, was there? Lily retorted silkily, while James began to turn red with indignation. Just apologize, James, and we'll forget about it.  
  
I have nothing to apologize for! James yelled, in the throes of fury. And a furious James could only mean one thing: sarcasm. Yes, Lily, I'm terribly sorry my best friend just _happened_ to faint and/or fall down dead in our house, it's really a darn shame! Please accept my most heartfelt apologies for not using my godly powers to stop this from happening...  
  
Lily hated sarcasm almost as much as she hated people who refused to apologize, which made James extremely susceptible to the full rage of his wife.  
  
James Potter, she intoned, deadly calm, if you don't apologize right this instant-   
  
Pardon me, Lily, but what has Padfoot done this time, out of sheer curiosity?  
  
Remus had made his second amazingly-timed entrance of the evening.  
  
Oh, you're back! What movies did you rent? Lily asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, the very picture of serenity. She had been the one to suggest, the moment Sirius had departed on his quest, that they rent some movies in order to pass the time. Remus had volunteered to go pick some up, seeing as though James was banished from doing so.  
  
I took Padfoot here's earlier comment to heart, Remus answered, gesturing to Sirius, whose status no one had yet bothered to check. He looked at James. And yes, it's what you think it is, Prongs; so sorry for eavesdropping. I picked up The Godfather', because I haven't seen it either.  
  
Well, why would you have - after all, movies are a muggle thing, Lily reasoned. If I wasn't muggle-born, none of you would even know what a VCR was.  
  
Correction - if your fantastically rich and conveniently terminally-ill uncle hadn't bought us our VCR as a wedding present, we wouldn't know what a VCR was, James supplied. Lily groaned, rolling her green eyes skywards.  
  
Wasn't that a pleasant experience... There we were, receiving the latest and greatest in muggle technology by a man who had less than six months left to live, and you and Sirius- Lily shook her head as if to banish the memories. Nevermind. The point is, we're incredibly lucky to have one.  
  
You're even luckier that Sirius hasn't wrecked it yet... Speak of the dog, what exactly did you do to him, Lily? He hasn't moved for a good ten minutes, Remus observed, returning to their initial conversation topic.   
  
Lily moved towards where Sirius lay, and crouched down beside him. She then proceeded to conduct a highly scientific examination of the man, which consisted mainly of poking and the occasional pulling of hair. James and Remus watched her in silence.  
  
Well, my extensive medical training indicates that he's dead, Lily pronounced finally, apparently oblivious to the rhythmic rise and fall of Sirius' chest. Your turn, she tossed, nodding at Remus.  
  
The lycanthrope went about his inspection in a much different manner than Lily had, opting to check for a pulse. He also seemed to be cautious of any injuries, whereas Lily, by contrast, had done her best to create some.  
  
I do hate to cause a debate, Lily, but it appears to me that our dear friend Padfoot seems to be alive, Remus diagnosed, frowning slightly. However, he's not in very good shape - our canine friend must have picked up a virus or something while he was out.  
  
James gasped, then burst into fake tears, this news apparently too much for him to take. Lily rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.  
  
she began, trying to be heard above the din that was her husband. Do you think it's a 24 hour virus, or something more serious?  
  
Remus' mouth twitched, and Lily silently begged him not to say the pun she knew was going through his mind. Thankfully, he abstained from vocalizing it. James abruptly stopped crying, and piped in:  
  
Well, to take down Sirius, who's got an immune system that could probably resist chicken pox, it would have to be a pretty killer germ, if you ask me.  
  
No one did, but seeing as though you've made a valid point, I forgive you, Lily offered benevolently. James stuck his tongue out at her, which she pointedly ignored. So it looks like Sirius will be indisposed for a while. Now then, only one question remains: who's going to look after him? He can't possibly take care of himself in that state, magically or otherwise.  
  
The two conscious Marauders looked at each other in a daring sort of way. Neither of them wanted to volunteer, but then again, neither of them wanted to sound like an uncaring prat.   
  
There was a long, uncomfortable silence.  
  
Sirius had never been comfortable with silences, and it seemed this trend carried over even when he was comatose. He gave a mighty twitch, opened one eye, threw up on James' sock and returned to his previous catatonic state.  
  
There was another long, uncomfortable silence.  
  
James, I've come to a conclusion.  
  
If it has anything to do with sordid fluid on foot wear, Moony, now's not the time, the black-haired man gritted out through clenched teeth. Remus smiled brightly back at him, happy as a lycanthropic clam.   
  
Lovely adjective, but no, it doesn't. Although I am storing these images away for future reference, you understand. James was making a funny clicking noise, and Lily instinctively took a step back. My conclusion is as follows: Sirius has quite obviously just selected you, James, as his ideal caregiver, and who am I to argue with vomit? Have a lovely time with that, I think I'll take my leave -  
  
  
  
Surprisingly, it was Lily, and not her wrathful husband that uttered the stunning spell. James looked at her questioningly.  
  
Bloody werewolf, like hell he's gonna logic his way out of this one, she declared ferociously. I am NOT playing nurse to a diseased Sirius Black without the proper backup, no way, no how!!  
  
Lily, have I told you lately that I love you?  
  
But only for as long as I can Stupefy your nitwit friends into oblivion, right? she grinned, winking at James, who laughed amiably.  
  
Speaking of nitwit friends, he began, as his arm snaked its way around Lily's waist, what are we going to do with them?  
  
I'll just magic Remus onto the couch in the family room; he'll come to soon enough. You can get Sirius into the guest room upstairs, hopefully before he throws up on you again.  
  
Luckily, the plan was carried out without a hitch, with Remus reviving just as James came back downstairs. Remus acted as though nothing had happened, as though he was under the illusion that this would preserve his forsaken dignity.  
  
Lily popped the tape into the VCR while James and Remus looked on, clueless as to how the machine operated. They were only slightly better versed with the workings of the TV, which had been a necessary purchase after they had been presented with the VCR. (Neither James nor Remus even bothered to ask Lily how she had rigged it so that the two electronic objects functioned in the magic-intense atmosphere of the house.)   
  
Once they were settled, Lily started the movie.   
  


*1979 - Post James and Lily's honeymoon*  
  


Where in the hell is Sirius?! I can't believe this! James, you told him to come at six, did you not?!  
  
_Yes_, I told him to come at six, for the thousandth time! I even specified six _pm_, for chrissakes, Lily! I warned you that he might be a tad late, I _warned _you...  
  
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES, James! Hardly a tad, if you ask me! And what good's a warning if the man practically lives in another time zone?!  
  
Peter observed the two newlyweds anxiously, unnerved by the furor at which they were screaming at each other. He caught Remus' eye, and was distraught to note that the werewolf was viewing the scene with the air of one studying the death of a flobberworm. That is to say, Remus was bored and faintly distressed that he could see no end in sight to the whole affair. Peter leaned in closer to his friend, wanting to communicate.  
  
How can you watch this so calmly, Remus? I mean, this is horrible...  
  
Yes, it's a rather impressive row, no doubt about it. I suppose I just take some sort of morbid pleasure from this sort of thing - either that or I'm shockingly desensitized to violent arguments, Remus mused, considering this for a moment before continuing in a whisper. Regardless from where my blasé disposition comes from, it comes in very handy when witnessing scenarios such as these unfold.  
  
You watch train wrecks too, then? Peter determined, trying to block out the sound of James and Lily's arguing. I think it's terrible - what if they get a divorce or something? he added, slightly panicked at the thought.  
  
Remus didn't think it worth noting that their mutual friends hadn't even been married for three months yet, and that the argument at hand was hardly one over which homes were broken. Peter's anxiety would dissipate the minute the fight came to an end, which Remus estimated would occur when Sirius arrived.   
  
The werewolf then had a brief moment of indecision as to whether he should tell Sirius that his best friend was arguing with his new wife because of him, then decided that he would, because Sirius tended to become quite charitable whenever he felt guilty. Remus felt that a Sirius who was willing to spend money on his friends unsparingly was in everyone's best interest, and Remus always had his friends' best interests at heart.  
  
That and the undeniable fact that getting the better of Sirius Black was one of life's simple pleasures.  
  
And so, the minutes ticked by. Remus plotted, James and Lily argued, and Peter had one panic attack after another. Finally, the thundering sound that could only be Sirius' beloved D.B. filled the air. James and Lily's dispute came to a swift end, the conclusion drawn that James was to give Sirius hell as soon as he stepped past the door. Which he soon did, sashaying rather unaffectedly into the foyer.  
  
Sirius, what part of six pm on the dot' did you not understand? James glowered at Sirius, attempting to loom menacingly over him, but finding it impossible as they were the same height. Sirius sighed, shook his head a bit, and gave James a pitying look.  
  
James, James, James... I really would have loved to be here on time, truly. But the thing is, he began, his voice practically dripping with regret. The thing is, I have an aversion to the concept of punctuality - it scares the bejeezus out of me! I just couldn't bring myself to do it, Prongs - I'll admit it, I have a problem!  
  
So do I, James replied evenly. Its name is Sirius Black, and I've been suffering from it for nearly a decade now.  
  
He then punctuated this statement by giving Sirius a sharp swat to the back of his head. Sirius gave a dog-like yelp before smacking James back with triple the force.  
  
That's for being inconsiderate to those with psychological issues, he huffed. Sirius then stormed into the family room and collapsed into James' favourite armchair, clearly ready to go into pout-mode. James didn't mind this in itself - he only wished Sirius had chosen a different chair.  
  
Remus cleared his throat, cutting through the sound of Sirius' vexed muttering.   
  
Well, now that we're all present and accounted for, I think we should possibly do what we came here to do - and that is to try out James and Lily's magnificent new V- Remus suddenly fell silent in the middle of the acronym, scrunching his face up with concentration. Oh, give me a minute, I know it starts with a v' and that it's an acronym of some sort... wait for it...it'll come to me...  
  
James would have laughed at Remus' rare display of incomprehension had he not been utterly ignorant of the thing's name himself. Lily sighed, not bothering to mask her amusement, and came to the rescue.  
  
It's called a VCR, Remus. And don't worry, James doesn't know what it's called either and it's in our house.  
  
But I know what it does, and that's the important thing, James declared. I also know that we have no movie tapes here, and without them, the V-thingy cannot do what I know it does, and that is to play Muggle movies. So there, he finished smugly, his last comment directed to no one in particular.   
  
Peter by this point was experiencing information-overload. No one had told him anything about movies! He didn't even know what movies were or did, but he had a sinking suspicion that he should. And so, Peter went by his old stand-by, which was to just go with the flow and pray that the whole thing would become clear to him later. That seldom happened, but hope does spring eternal, after all.  
  
Then let's go get some movies, if you two don't own any, Peter guessed, relieved to see that his friends were nodding in agreement.   
  
Remus smiled softly at Peter, glad that the latter knew what movies were, and also that Sirius now owed him ten sickles. (Sirius' muttering was momentarily punctuated with a few choice four-letter words.)  
  
Now there's a plan, Lily approved. Why don't you just head down to the video store, Peter, and pick up a few?  
  
Well, uh, y'see... Peter stuttered, mentally considering himself as screwed. James, however, broke into the conversation.  
  
Lily, how's he supposed to know where it it? He's never been to our local video store, have you, Wormtail? he inquired, head cocked slightly to the side as he regarded Peter.  
  
No, can't say that I have, James! Peter squeaked, resisting the urge to throw himself at his friend's feet in gratitude.   
  
Then I, James Potter, shall accompany you, James responded imperially, although the effect was undermined somewhat due to Remus and Lily's violent snickering. He turned to the armchair where Sirius was sitting and pretending to ignore them all. Siri, you wanna come with?  
  
came the noncommittal reply.  
  
Oh fine, stay here and lament the sorrows of the world, James sighed, correctly interpreting Sirius' muttering. But just so you know, you no longer have the right to complain about whatever movies we rent.  
  
Sirius answered with a caustic snort, which clearly said: You keep telling yourself that, Prongs, and one day it might come true.  
  
James sighed again as he opened the closet and reached for his shoes.   
  
Look on the bright side, James - you get to go out and escape him for awhile, Remus offered, a sardonic grin on his face. Your charming wife and I get to babysit in your absence.  
  
Lily's dark look told James that she didn't appreciate that fact in the slightest. Nevertheless, she went upstairs to get her wallet as soon as James informed her that he had no muggle money on him.  
  
she said, practically shoving the regrettably feminine wallet against his chest. But I want the change back, so don't forget!  
  
And do get something good, Remus suggested, as James and Peter made their way out the door. Peter laughed a little before replying.  
  
Don't worry, Moony, I'll just let James do the picking - I promise I won't get involved and screw things up by getting something horrible. Remus frowned slightly before his sardonic grin made another appearance.  
  
Well, even if you did end up getting something horrible, Wormtail, it wouldn't be a complete loss, because then Sirius would have something to complain about.  
  
James, sensing a dogfight coming on, was quick to shut the door.  
  
/several minutes later/  
  
Because of the unfortunate fact that Peter did not know the location of the video store, the two wizards were unable to apparate there as they would have liked. They were forced instead to take a ride in James' self-proclaimed Spiffy Car, which supposedly had come into being via an effort to one-up Sirius' motorbike.  
  
Now, even though the Marauders knew that James' Spiffy Car was in reality a dilapidated Volkswagen Beetle that ran for ten minutes and went at a maximum speed of 40 miles per hour on the best of days, that didn't mean they were at liberty to say anything that would touch upon that fact. (Not to say that certain red-haired women didn't comment on this often, mind you.) Thus, Peter was forced to swallow whatever misgivings he may have had as he squeezed into what Sirius had (while out of James' earshot) affectionately dubbed That Run-Down Shit Box On Wheels.  
  
Even when the steering wheel fell off, Peter remained wisely silent, knowing a remark about the car's condition would ruin James' mood for the evening, if not for his life.   
  
Amazingly, the car made it to the video store without exploding in flames, something that Peter felt was all too probable an event. With that particular hurdle overcome, the rat Animagus scurried behind James into the video store.  
  
Peter made a conscious effort not to gawk or look too nonplused as he stared at the plethora of tapes before him. These were videos, then! Suddenly, his mind made the connection between video tapes, VCRs and muggle movies.   
  
It was a beautiful thing, Peter thought to himself.  
  
James was less astonished with the video store. He stalked through the aisles with the air of one simply going through the motions. But James was not as confident as he looked, because this trip to the rental shop was indeed the first he had made without Lily, and his involvement in the selection of movies had been limited even then. In fact, James hadn't the foggiest idea of what to get or where to look.  
  
Just then, Peter trotted up to him, carrying a pile of tapes in his arms.  
  
James! What do you think of these, he asked, looking up at James expectantly. James gulped internally as he began to read the titles out loud.  
  
Casablanca.. Ben Hur... Citizen Kane... James scowled. These sound craptacular, Pete! Not that you're picking them wrong, he added quickly, catching Peter's devastated look. I'll bet all the movies here suck, and Lily and I have already rented the only good ones, is all.  
  
Peter seemed appeased, but James' predicament was far from over. Where to find a suitable movie in a store that clearly specialized in grade-A critical bombs?   
  
It was at this opportune moment that a sign caught James' eye. His face lit up with newfound hope, and he nudged Peter's arm, gesturing wildly at the placard.  
  
Oi, Wormtail! Do you see what I see?  
  
Uh, I see a sign that says Restricted area - Adults Only'.  
  
That's what I see, old buddy! And as we both know, good things _always_ come from the Restricted section! James proclaimed jubilantly.  
  
James, this isn't Hogwarts, nor are you in the Library. I don't think it's the same th- Peter didn't get a chance to finish his thought, as James was already halfway across the store.  
  
Let's check it out! he commanded.  
  
So check it out they did. James picked up a movie entitled: Passion Beneath The Bomb Shelter and began to read the summary.  
  
Amid the chaos of war, two tortured souls find love in the barracks of Normandy. But what steamy secrets lurk beneath their uniforms? An intense, throbbing art film starring Erotica Goldust and Butch Hott.' Huh, James blinked, regarding the enamored couple on the cover. Bet Remus would like this one - sounds like a war epic.  
  
Peter narrowed his eyes, unsure whether James was joking or not.  
  
Um, okay, but don't you think these are a little -  
  
Ooh, listen to this one! Sounds like one of those everyday dramas Lily's so fond of: A lonely suburban housewife. A tormented appliance salesman. One hot summer's day, these two will meet and share a love more fiery than the sun itself. A gripping, imaginative trip through the desirous psyche of an anguished homemaker and the working man who dared to love her, James narrated, shaking his head a little before reading the next line. Starring Julia Valentine and Rocco Lauritzen.' Geez, why do all muggle actors have these weird names?  
  
I dunno, Peter offered lamely, preoccupied by the strange feeling of incoming doom that had suddenly come over him. James stared at him questioningly. Because they're muggles?  
  
I suppose that's a good enough reason as any, but these are particularly unique.  
  
James, I have a bad feeling about this...   
  
James scoffed in reply.  
  
C'mon, Peter - you were the one that didn't want to get involved in the decision-making process, remember? Peter nodded glumly. So you're just gonna have to trust me and my innate sense of good judgment.  
  
Peter vaguely recalled several instances at Hogwarts where James had said the exact same thing, instances in which whatever prank they were pulling had gone horribly, horribly awry. Peter refused to bring this up and be forced to remember the many detentions. Silence was golden.  
  
So they went with James' intuition and rented Passion Beneath the Bomb Shelter' and its counterpart, A Housewife's Tale of Seduction'. The pimply-faced clerk was smiling at them in a way that profoundly disturbed Peter, but James seemed not to notice.   
  
Mind you, James also didn't notice the car parked in his driveway until it was nearly too late and he had to slam on the brakes, losing the roof of the car in the process.  
  
The hell? he muttered, stepping out of the car in order to inspect the foreign object. Peter didn't recognize it, but then again, he knew very few people who owned cars. Recognition must have dawned on James, though, because a very dark look crossed his face as soon as he completed his circle around the car. Let's get inside, Peter.  
  
And he stalked across his lawn towards the front door, muttering all the way. As they wiped their feet on the welcome rug outside the door, Peter turned to James curiously.  
  
James, do you know whose car that is?  
  
Unfortunately, yes. And I don't see why she had to come, or why Lily invited her... James responded grimly, not looking too eager to go into his house as he turned his key in the lock.  
  
The first thing that greeted them was a flustered, hostile Sirius, who didn't even wait until they got their shoes off before he started ranting at them.  
  
James, I hate her. I don't know why she's here, I don't care if Lily invited her, I hate her, I want her gone. Now.  
  
To Peter's mild surprise, James did not berate Sirius at all for this outburst, but rather, looked sympathetic and equally upset.  
  
Yes, I do too, but there's nothing I can do about it-  
  
Nothing you can do about it! I'll nothing you! You _have_ to do something! ANYTHING! You're our last hope! Sirius pleaded, clearly at his wit's end. Remus is too polite and reserved to say anything, and she's Lily's sister for crying out loud! And Peter, no offense, he added, wouldn't rage at somebody if his life depended on it! James, I'm begging you, man! I haven't even shown my face since she got here!  
  
Sorry, Padfoot - if you want something done about her, you'll have to do it yourself, I'm afraid, James said, clapping a hand on Sirius' shoulder and patting it regretfully before he entered the family room.   
  
Sirius turned to Peter.  
  
Wormtail, if you're smart, you'll take a page out of my book, he stated, before taking on his Animagus form and racing away. Peter swallowed hard. Lily's sister? His contact with her had been limited at best (James and Sirius' reactions to her presence confirmed his suspicions that there was a reason for this), but they had been introduced at James and Lily's wedding. She couldn't be that bad, could she? Sirius was just a tad sensitive, after all.  
  
The minute he entered the family room, he wished he had taken Sirius' advice. Peter's gaze settled first on Remus, who at first glance looked like he was listening with rapt interest. Peter took in Remus' fisted hands and the clenched smile on his face with something akin to shell shock. What sort of person could possibly bring out that sort of reaction in Remus, whom Peter knew to be nearly impossible to bother?  
  
He got his answer as soon as he looked at Lily and James, who were sitting on the loveseat across from Remus and talking to a woman seated in James' favourite armchair. That fact alone was enough to send James into an apocalyptic fury, Peter estimated. Lily kept glancing between James and her sister, looking apologetic and miserable. Her smile resembled Remus' a great deal, although it faltered regularly. James, meanwhile, stared icily at the woman in the armchair, not even bothering to attempt a smile. His responses were curt and, most terrifying of all, absent of all sarcasm.  
  
Dear God, thought Peter, she must be evil incarnate!  
  
He was about to about face and run, not unlike Sirius had, but Lily called his name, obviously grateful to have reinforcements.  
  
Peter! Petunia, this is our friend, Peter Pettigrew. Peter, my sister, Petunia, the red-head said, looking at her sister with a forced smile. The smile Peter got was genuine, if not short-lived.   
  
Pleased to meet you, Peter responded, reaching out to shake her hand. Petunia did not offer hers, offering him a dry:  
  
Charmed, I'm sure...  
  
Lily coughed slightly, pasting another weak smile on her face.  
  
Yes, I invited Petunia over to watch the movies with us, seeing as though she doesn't have a VCR...   
  
James turned his head to look at her, and Peter had no trouble understanding what he was trying to communicate: _That's_ your reason for subjecting us to this, because she doesn't have a VCR? We're not benefiting humanity as a result of our brave sacrifice? What have we done to make you hate us so?  
  
Petunia drawled, we'll have one soon enough. I expect Vernon's drill company to make millions before the year is out, you know.  
  
Er, yes, of course. Um, how is Vernon? Lily tried, successful when Petunia began babbling about their new house on Privet-something. James was glaring with enough strength to bore through a brick wall by the time her tirade was nearing its end.  
  
...so they're going to cut us a deal on kitchen appliances, naturally. Normally, they'd charge us a large sum, but - oh wait, I don't suppose you people have any concept of normalcy, do you? It's a wonder you have a VCR; such a shame that technology goes to waste on a group of freaks...  
  
Lily laughed nervously, but she was the only one who did so. James stood up abruptly, and for a wild moment Peter thought he would attack Petunia.   
  
he yelled, and Peter thought this to be an unwise move, seeing as though they were all trying to be as polite as possible and that Sirius was not one to mince his words. Nevertheless, he was an effective buffer zone, and greatly enhanced the group's coping mechanism due to his impulsive, shameless, occasionally tactless and no-holds-barred personality.  
  
That was the human Sirius, in any case. His canine form was just as likely to bite someone's hand off if provoked. Thankfully, Sirius entered the room as a person, not as a dog.  
  
  
  
  
  
There was a short silence, the calm before the storm.  
  
I hate you, Sirius informed Petunia suddenly, looking her in the eye with great dignity. I hate you, and I want you to leave.   
  
Petunia reddened, clearly not having expected that sort of thing right away. Peter found himself smiling despite himself, and saw that James and Remus had had the same reaction. Lily remained nervous, but Peter thought he saw the beginning of a grin start on her lips.  
  
Petunia sputtered, I see you haven't learned any manners since the last time we met.  
  
I simply don't waste pleasantries on the unpleasant, Petunia darling, he quipped, striding towards her in a most stately manner. He stopped his advance the second Petunia pulled back her feet, which occurred when he was about a foot away. He hadn't had to use it very often since they had graduated, but the ability to effectively intimidate was a skill that Sirius had not yet forgotten.  
  
Why don't we start the movies now? Remus suggested softly once Sirius had settled himself between the werewolf and Peter on the couch.  
  
I was being entertained just fine, actually, James smirked, winking at Sirius, who inclined his head majestically in response. Lily gave them both a look, but her mood was greatly improved. Petunia remained silent, avoiding looking towards the space Sirius occupied. But if we must, we must. We wouldn't want to miss out on the wonderful movies I've selected, would we?  
  
The feeling of impending doom returned, but Peter suppressed it, having no small amount of blind faith in James. Sirius rubbed his hands together gleefully.  
  
Excellent! I shall ready my mocking comments, he declared, and no one dared to counsel him against this. He was the hero of the hour, after all, having overcome his fear in favour of the common good.   
  
A Housewife's Tale of Seduction' was selected and fed into the VCR, to a background of anticipatory silence.  
  
Lily knew the moment the opening credits came on that something was amiss, particularly since the beginning of the movie consisted of a title graphic and two naked people looking at each other hungrily.  
  
James, what section did yo-  
  
  
  
And so, for a good 10 minutes there was absolute silence, save for the sounds of the movie. Lily had her head in her hands. Peter looked confused. Remus was forever scarred. James stared at the screen disbelievingly. Petunia's eyes were wide, her long face completely white. Sirius, however, was completely poker-faced.  
  
Finally, after the heroine had shouted Ooh babay! for the umpteenth time, Lily decided enough was enough. She walked up to the VCR and stopped and ejected the movie. All at once, everyone began to talk.  
  
James, this is a porno. Why have you rented a porno? _Why_?  
  
I _knew_ something was wrong! James, your innate sense of judgment officially sucks! ...and to think we could've rented Casablanca...  
  
There are no words to express the full extent of my horror at this moment.  
  
What on earth is _wrong_ with you people?! Don't even _freaks_ have their limits?!!  
  
But I thought it was a vignette, a slice of life! I thought it was some kind of _chick flick_! It wasn't _that_ obvious...was it? ... I should be shot...  
  
What was that movie about?  
  
Everyone stopped talking abruptly and stared at Sirius, who looked puzzled.  
  
I mean, it looked like some sort of surgery! I couldn't tell what the hell was going on, what with the close-ups, and the throb-y music, and the lame dialogue, what's with that... You'd think they were having sex, or something!  
  
There was a unanimous decision to leave that one alone.   
  
(Privately, though, James thought Sirius had a point.)   
  
I am leaving now, and I'm _never_ coming back, Petunia announced, flouncing out of the house. Sirius hailed her exit with a choice finger.  
  
Peter looked at James, something like triumph on his face.  
  
Prongs, I don't think you'll be doing that again in a hurry, eh? he teased. James grinned, always able to laugh at himself. Lily answered for him, finding the situation less than comical.  
  
No, I think James is officially banned from selecting any movies in the future. Yes, that sounds appropriate, don't you think, honey?  
  
I completely, utterly agree, James concurred enthusiastically, not caring that his wife currently thought him to be incredibly thick. Remus let out a long breath.  
  
I think we should just call it a night, the werewolf recommended, to everyone's laughing approval. Thanks for the memories, James. And Peter, I apologize - James is more inept than you by far.  
  
Yeah, I came to that conclusion a few minutes ago, Peter snorted, as they made their way towards the front door. Remus pulled on his coat, gave one last chuckle and apparated away, Peter following suit a few goodbyes later.   
  
Well, Siri? You off, too? James asked his best friend, who was stepping into his shoes.  
  
No, I'm gonna rent us some movies! Sirius kidded, smiling at the married couple. Yeah, I think I'll be heading out - I'm giving D.B. a tune up in the morning.  
  
Thanks for everything, Sirius, Lily said, handing him his leather coat. Sirius blinked, cocking his head to the side slightly. For, you know, helping me with Petunia... I don't think that's the right word, but whatever. Sirius smirked devilishly before replying.  
  
Oh, anytime, absolutely! I rather enjoyed myself, surprisingly... Well, see you two later, he declared, stepping outside. Sirius was halfway across the lawn when he turned around, sniggering. And Prongs? Just some advice - Passion Beneath the Bomb Shelter' is loads better than that Julia Valentine one. Never could stand her...  
  
James, sensing his sanity leaving him, was quick to shut the door.  
  


*end flashback*  
  


The familiar end theme of The Godfather drifted through the family room as the credits began to roll. James turned to Remus first, curious as to his reaction.  
  
So, Moony? What'd you think?  
  
I'm thinking that that was the most disturbingly excellent movie I've ever seen, Remus answered. Lily smirked, cutting into the conversation.  
  
And how many movies have you seen, Remus? Remus flushed slightly before replying.  
  
Less than five, probably... But I'm still entitled to my opinion, he protested, as Lily laughed, shaking her head.  
  
Of course you are, and I agree with you completely - it's a brilliant film.  
  
As well as disturbing, as Remus pointed out, James said, shuddering a bit. I'm rethinking our decision to appoint a godfather at all, Lil...  
  
Oh, come on! Lily snickered, swatting her husband playfully on the arm. I hardly think Sirius will turn into Michael Corleone overnight!  
  
Maybe not overnight, James intoned darkly, but you never know what Sirius would do if he were provoked...  
  
He's been provoked before and nothing bad came of it, Lily argued. Remus, however, gave a derisive laugh.  
  
Am I the only one that remembers the Whomping Willow incident? he uttered sarcastically. And let's not forget his raring impulsiveness...  
  
As well as the fact that nothing he does is governed by common sense, James added thoughtfully. Heaven forbid Sirius should think before he acts!  
  
Remus nodded, running a hand through his hair. Not to say his heart's not in the right place - if anything, he's an over-protective suck of a man, but one of these days...   
  
Are you fretful over our dear Padfoot, Moony? James asked in a simpering tone that caused Remus to frown. Don't bother worrying over him - it'll only give you wrinkles. Trust me.   
  
Are you two aware that this entire conversation was spawned over the fact that you two think that Sirius is a budding Michael Corleone? Lily erupted, throwing up her arms in exaggerated defeat. Fine, Sirius will become Michael Corleone, happy? Now we all have the same opinion!  
  
The two pranksters stared bug-eyed at her for a second, taken aback by her sudden rage.  
  
And I'm not done! I refuse to watch any more movies with you two, as I am now of the opinion that they rot minds! I now have a new, constructive hobby, she continued, oblivious to the wary looks James and Remus were giving her. From this day forth, my time will not be spent worshiping the VCR, but rather, in the pursuit of knowledge! I, Lily Potter, will learn every major language in the world!!  
  
Not bothering to wait for their response, she marched out of the room.  
  
Remus breathed.   
  
Yeah, wow. I'll never get used to that, I swear, James lamented as they stared at the static-filled television screen. And what's she talking about, movies rot minds'? I hardly consider myself to be in a state of decay...  
  
I'm going to rent another one, Remus announced suddenly. James blinked at the non-sequitur. Something happy, this time.  
  
Moony, it's past midnight, the store's probably closed, and obsession isn't healthy, James admonished. Maybe movies do rot minds...  
  
Remus stared at him blankly, and James was sure that his lycanthropic friend had lost it. Happily, Remus' answer was perfectly normal.  
  
Dear God, you're right! I _am _becoming obsessed! For a second there, I was thinking of breaking into the store and stealing a movie... he revealed, horrified with himself.   
  
First of all, Moony, I'm not God, James replied. Secondly, you're just the obsessive, neurotic type, so don't be too shocked. Thirdly, you've done worse things than breaking into a store. Or was that me and Sirius...  
  
Remus interjected forcefully. His face was a little pale at the thought of all the potentially illegal things that James and Sirius had done when he had not been there to stop them. (But then again, he thought pragmatically, it's not like anyone listens to the werewolf anyways. The nightmares I'm going to have...) Can I sleep here tonight?   
  
Go right ahead - Sirius is in the guest room, but I can transfigure the couch into a bed if you'd like...  
  
No, thanks, I'll do that myself, Remus answered quickly, as James tended to get over-zealous with his displays of transfiguration. James shrugged.  
  
Goodnight then, Moony.  
  
the werewolf repeated, as James left the room and began to turn the lights off. Soon, the house was dark and silent, leaving Remus alone with his thoughts, which, as Sirius had often said, was never a good thing.  
  
Remus' last conscious thought before falling asleep was this: Damn it all, I still want my happy movie!  
  


* * *  
  


Wow. This chapter is a monster, weighing in at 30 pages and 6630 words. But then again, it also took me over 2 weeks to write it... There's a story behind that.  
  
The story is this:  
  
This chapter refused to be written for an entire week. Even when it cooperated, it would only do so for a few paragraphs. This was beginning to piss me off, as I wanted to get it posted ASAP.   
  
That failed spectacularly.  
  
I then set myself a deadline, the 17th. So, on the 16th, I allotted myself SEVEN HOURS worth of writing time, from 3pm to 10pm. Did I use this time?  
  
Hell no.  
  
What happened was that I started writing at around 6pm and proceeded to live off cookie dough and Kool Aid for the next five and a half hours. No joke. By the time 11:30 had rolled around, I had written around 14 pages (approximately 2685 words). I have only this to say about that experience:  
  
NEVER AGAIN.  
  
And to think, I wasn't even done the chapter. I wrote an additional 5 pages on the 17th, still desperate to make my self-imposed deadline.  
  
The one good thing is that I have the happy tendency to edit as I go, which saved me a lot of grief, especially when you're so tired you think away' and what you type is ahead'.   
  
I repeat, NEVER AGAIN.  
  
But, like my beta says, that's why I'm a writer and she's, you know, not.  
  
And that is my story. Just so you know.   
  
NOTE: If my updates ever become two-week affairs again, then you know why. I'd love to update often. Really. But my chapters keep growing in size, my obsessiveness with literary perfection isn't letting up, and Real Life remains a bitch.   
  
Of course, huge chapter size probably doesn't bother any readers, now does it? Lucky buggers... ^_^ Just think of it as compensation for the fact that my updates are not as fast as some (although it is my own personal opinion that if an author updates once a month with a behemoth, kickass chappie, that's good enough).  
  
My top updating speed (barring supernatural writing/editing abilities) will be once a week. Maybe more once school starts.   
  
And yes, this long author's note was a present to myself for being so damn awesome. Wisha!  
  
**Reviews:**  
**Edward: **Hey, any review's a good review! Thanx!   
**sailoranime: **Yay, you came back! You are officially the first person to review both chapters (other than my stupid friends, who don't count), and as such, my favourite person today. Thanks again for the kind words - I'm very fond of the robbery scene, myself. And as for James and Lily _needing_ diapers... Well, you'll find out later. Much later (try, chapter 11). Let's just say that it involves drywall.   
**Faber Wolffe: **Yes, it is up to the imagination as to whether James and Sirius were playing dumb or not... I'm not telling! I'm so glad people like my portrayal of Sirius, because my mom kept whining that he was too arrogant and un-canonlike. (I showed her this review, though, and she shut up!) Is he more devil-may-care? I thought he was typical MWPP Sirius - that's great that you think he's unique! Thanks ever so much!**   
Alexandrea-Riddle: **As I've said before, you never really took the privilege seeing as though you ran off to Mississippi. No more Suzy for you! ^_^   
**SilverWolf: **Aw, you're vocabulary is fine, as long as it's flattering! I love you, too.   
**Viridian Magpie: ***is in shock* Someone...understood...my pain! You say you've never learnt French, but if you can recognize the idiocy of moi amour toi you're hella better than half the people in my French immersion class, and we've been learning it since we were 5! You have reaffirmed my belief that not all people are idiots when it comes to languages. Thank you! Sirius was sick because Mrs. Wallace sneezed on him in Chapter 1, remember? Don't worry about looking dumb - I tend to forget to make things obvious and just assume that people understand. My bad! I don't think Sirius is that arrogant, either, but since this is a humour fic, I figure a little OOC never hurt anyone, right? :)   
**_eep: **Ah, Sirius - how could one not love him? For notes on updating speed, read the author's notes/rant above. I do apologize, and hope you're still reading this despite my lethargy! Thank you!   
**echo2: **YES! My characters are not whack-jobs! Excellent - that comment means a lot to me, because I keep feeling that I'm portraying them wrongly... Thanks for helping my confidence!   
  
HUGE thanks to the whole smackload of people who added me to their favorites' list! It makes me feel like a very special author, let me tell you!  
  
Oh, and I have a Reader's Poll for you guys: I have written a bunch of song parodies. Would you rather they appear here in SaaD as bonus chapters, or as separate posts? Or does nobody care either way?  
  
One last thing: Is there anybody out there willing to get me a Livejournal account??? I'd love you forever... I'd maybe even do a gift fic for whoever is kind enough to do this...*hint hint*   
  
NEXT TIME: Will Remus see his happy movie? Will James get a yacht? Will Peter wear an apron? Will praying mantises TAKE OVER THE WORLD? ... Only if you leave a nice review.  
  
  
  
  



	4. Life Issues

Disclaimer: I have a meeting with Buddha on Saturday, so should it go well and no one goes Corleone on me, Harry Potter will be mine. But not until Saturday.  
  
RANDOM EVENT OF THE CHAPTER  
Word of fabulousness:  
- . It's a German word, meaning the obnoxious author's name isn't Oxford, so go look it up yourselves, because I'm promoting that warm fuzzy glow that only independent accomplishment can give you.  
  
SPOILERS: Besides the obvious ones. Let's just say I'm facing my Book 5 fears. Bwa.  
  


* * *  
  
Chapter 4: Life Issues  
  


Remus woke up at four am with mixed feelings. The first was of intense relief, for his yearning to watch another movie had abated tremendously over the night. The second was of intense misery, for Remus did not have his toothbrush with him.  
  
To most people, the lack of a toothbrush was a trivial setback. To Remus, it was the nameless terror of his existence, the thing he dreaded the most in the entire world. This was because Remus was a clean freak, which suited him fine during most circumstances. Unfortunately for him, his current circumstance was quite unlike most.  
  
Luckily, Remus was, as well as a clean freak, a pragmatist. This meant that the werewolf was already searching frantically for the solution to his problem, racking his brain for the evasive answer.  
  
I could always just transfigure one, he thought, temporarily enheartened.   
  
But they never turn out right, and I won't have some grotesque quasi-toothbrush, thankyouverymuch... Damn it all, I want my happy movie!  
  
The moment those thoughts formed in his brain, Remus made the astute decision to go back to sleep, praying that a little R.E.M. dreaming would solve his problems once more.  
  
Remus' next awakening was at nine in the morning, to the smell of eggs being cooked. The werewolf's acute senses told him that someone was making breakfast, presumably of the egg variety. He would have to move quickly.  
  
LILY, NO DON'T DO IT!!! Remus thundered, crashing into the kitchen with all the grace of, well, Sirius. Lily jumped a foot in the air, whipping around to face him angrily, spatula in hand. James, who was sitting at the kitchen table feeding a curious-looking Harry, didn't even look up as he spoke to his frazzled wife.  
  
Don't worry, sweetie, Remus is just being his usual, manic self, he stated, as if that made the situation acceptable. Remus glared at James for a nanosecond before reconcentrating his energy on the mission at hand.  
  
Please don't do it, Lily, I'm begging you, the lycanthrope pleaded, and while Lily looked immensely relieved that he had stopped yelling, she still looked hugely peeved.  
  
What, Remus. What horror shouldn't I commit? she asked, hands on hips. Remus looked aghast at her ignorance to the situation.  
  
Lily! I can't believe you! I would have thought you, of all peop- James recognized a rant when he saw one, and was quick to interrupt again.  
  
Moony, shut up, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. (Remus shut up.) Lily, darling, he's talking about the eggs you're frying.  
  
The whuh? the red-head questioned articulately, shooting both Remus and James worried looks.  
  
The eggs, pumpkin, the eggs, her husband repeated slowly, while Remus nodded frantically. He wants you to flip them.  
  
There was a pause, during which Harry spat up.  
  
Well, it only makes sense, Lily, Remus extrapolated, looking somewhat abashed. I mean, do you know how much bacteria is on eggs that are sunny-side up?  
  
Lily stared at him for a long second before scraping her obviously sunny-side up eggs onto a plate. Remus gasped, mortally hurt.  
  
Lily - what - why - ?  
  
Because you're neurotic, that's why, she uttered, shoving the plate into his chest. Here. Breakfast is served.  
  
I can't eat this! Remus cried, forgetting his usually perfect manners in the heat of his fright. It's unhygienic!  
  
Lily's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she stepped forward, waving her spatula in a most intimidating manner.  
  
I'll unhygienic you if you don't shut up and eat it, she threatened, pleased to note that Remus was already sitting down and reaching for his fork before she even finished. That's better.  
  
James, meanwhile, was snickering quietly. This didn't remain unnoticed for long, because the moment Lily sat down with her (to Remus' mute terror) sunny-side up eggs, she faced him questioningly.  
  
  
  
Oh, nothing, he responded, I was just thinking about how ironic it is for you to be calling someone else neurotic, dear.  
  
And that was the moment that Remus decided he would go home to get his toothbrush.  
  
As Remus reached the front door, he heard the distinct sound of a plastic spatula hitting someone's forehead. He was about to turn the doorknob when it turned on its own, prompting Remus to take a cautionary step backwards.  
  
The door swung open, and Peter Pettigrew stepped into the house.   
  
Sorry, the door was unlocked- oh, hi, Remus! Peter smiled, reaching behind him to shut the door. Remus, however, wasn't about to let his chance at getting his toothbrush slide, catching the door with his foot.  
  
Hello and goodbye, I'm afraid, he explained, feeling a little guilty for leaving Peter to witness James and Lily's newest battle. I'll be back soon - just going to get my toothbrush.  
  
Peter, as it were, didn't need further explanations, well-versed in Remus' clean freak ways. He bade Remus farewell, and no sooner had he done so than the sounds of war reached his ears.  
  
Not again, he thought despairingly, this sort of thing can't be normal...  
  
Peter entered the kitchen with some trepidation, unsure of what awaited him inside. As it were, Lily was currently in the process of making a dent in James' forehead with the spatula, while James attempted to calm her. So far it didn't seem to be working.   
  
Lily - ouch! - you can't say - that hurt, damnit! - you're never - ow! - a little - OUCH! - neurotic - YAAAARRRRGGH!!!!!!!  
  
Who's neurotic now, James, who's neurotic now? she fairly whispered, setting down the spatula on the table while James clutched his forehead in agony.   
  
Not neurotic, Lily, brain-damaged! he tossed back, never in too much pain to not give his two cents worth. And I'm not even gonna mention the possible disfiguration you've just caused...  
  
Lily raised her spatula.  
  
GOOD MORNING! Peter shouted, effectively saving James from further abuse. Lily turned her head sharply in his direction, uttered a swift good morning' of her own, and faced her husband once more, never easily deferred. James, however, had stood up from the kitchen table and was inching towards the sliding door leading outside, offering Peter his most enthusiastic greetings all the while.  
  
Wormtail!!! How are you?! What a pleasant, _pleasant_ surprise this is!!! Sure is a beautiful day today, isn't it?! What say we step outside and look at the beautiful day, hm?!!  
  
Peter saw no sense in responding, as James was already in the back yard. Lily was fuming silently, clearly looking for something to take out her rage on, so Peter quickly joined his friend outside.  
  
What was it about this time? Peter asked, as soon as they had moved a suitable distance away from the house. Did you ruin another one of her combs?  
  
No, and that never happened! James began indignantly. He then sighed, rubbing his bruised forehead. I accused her of being neurotic-  
  
Bad move, Prongs, reeeeally bad move.  
  
Yes, well, thank you Mr. Hindsight-Is-Twenty-Twenty, the stag Animagus replied sarcastically. Peter didn't even pretend to be hurt by this, far too accustomed to James' caustic remarks. But you're right, I should have known better.  
  
Yep, you should've, Peter agreed. James sniffed, turning slightly away from his plump friend.  
  
Thanks ever so much for the words of comfort, Pete.  
  
Well, you should've! the rat Animagus protested, but he mumbled an apology all the same. James shook it off with an amused shake of the head, then changed the topic.  
  
So what brings you here, Peter? I thought you were pretty busy job-hunting, James speculated.   
  
Oh, no, er, I-   
  
You must have found a job then! Peter gave an uncomfortable nod, and James beamed. That's great! Hope the hours are flexible so you can come around more often, eh?  
  
Er, well, yes, they are, in a manner of speaking... the short man mumbled, looking distinctly nervous. Right now I'm just... on call, I guess.  
  
You guess? James grinned, nudging Peter with his shoulder. Betcha don't have a clue what you're supposed to be doing, right?  
  
Right! Not a clue, that's me, Peter agreed, hoping James would drop the subject.  
  
Where are you working, then? For a company, I gather? James continued jovially.   
  
Yeah, it's a muggle shipping company, Peter supplied. Only job I could find, shifting boxes around all day...  
  
Sounds like a drag.  
  
Oh, it is, yeah. Really boring.  
  
I see, James nodded, casting around for another topic. Suddenly, he let out a short laugh, causing Peter to start. You know what, Pete? You never got around to telling me why you're here!  
  
I'm looking for Padfoot, actually. He owes me money, explained Peter, as James dusted off his jeans, smirking.  
  
Still hasn't paid you back, has he?   
  
Peter let out an explosive sigh in response.  
  
No, no he hasn't - and I suspect it's the same story with half the population of Britain, he grimaced, shaking his head despairingly. You'd think he'd at least pay _me_ back...  
  
And why do you think that, Wormtail? questioned James, mind struggling to get around the concept of someone believing that Sirius would pay them back.  
  
Because the amount he owes me is not trifling, nor is the amount of time he's been owing it to me. Since third year, James, practically a decade ago. I lent that great sod five galleons in third year and it's my life's greatest regret.  
  
Didn't Remus and I warn you at the time that it was an enormously bad idea?  
  
Yes, but a fat lot of good that did when it's Sirius I'm up against! Honestly, he was practically latched onto my leg, begging and groveling - no one can refuse Sirius when he's pathetic like that!  
  
I do, James answered impassively. Make it a weekly exercise, as a matter of fact. Does wonders for the constitution.  
  
Peter gave him an envious look, reverence apparent on his features.  
  
Well, of course you're able to, being his best friend and all, Peter remarked. I think you're entitled to it.   
  
Yes, I am, but don't be too jealous, replied James, smirking slightly. How'd you like a best friend who thinks the ability to give others heart attacks and nervous breakdowns is a sign of his comedic genius? Not to mention a constitutional right, for that matter.  
  
True enough, Peter acquiesced, laughing along with James. So what do you think my odds are at getting back my money today?  
  
I'd say they've improved significantly, especially if you choose to take back your money by force, said James, while Peter raised his eyebrows, interest piqued. I say this because our mutual friend is currently upstairs in the guest room, looking and probably feeling like death warmed over.  
  
Sirius is sick? Peter gaped, shocked and not entirely convinced. James nodded gleefully.  
  
Yes, he is! Isn't it great? He's helpless, absolutely defenseless, and in my house on top of that! James sighed, in the throes of pure bliss. Just think of the possibilities...  
  
James! He's sick, admonished Peter. At least wait till he's recuperated somewhat!  
  
James' look turned sour almost immediately, and Peter tried hard not to look crushed.  
  
Damnit, Peter, why'd you have to choose now of all times to become moralistic? he pouted. Morals are relative anyways...  
  
Peter didn't get a chance to reply, as Lily was calling for them to come back inside in a voice that allowed no room for arguments. Manly independence temporarily disregarded, they trotted into the house immediately.  
  
Once in the kitchen, Lily tossed a bundle of fabric in Peter's general direction, which he barely caught. Upon disentangling it, he saw that it was an apron. Peter couldn't help but look confused.  
  
It's an apron, Lily stated, while James made a phenomenal effort in not interrupting with a sarcastic comment. You're going to be helping me out around the house.  
  
I am? But why? Peter asked, finding the idea a hard one to warm up to. James also looked at his wife in confusion.  
  
Because if I made James do it, not only would he complain the whole time, but he'd find a way to do irreparable damage to the house.  
  
James watched this conversation unfold with growing anger. Lily, his own wife, was practically saying that he was inept! He was _so _not inept - he just wasn't the house-cleaning type. She'd regret ever saying that when he-  
  
James, stop plotting. Peter, I assume you know about Sirius being indisposed? Lily questioned. James huffed and lapsed into silence.   
  
Yes, I heard about that misfortune, Peter said. Believe me, I'd love to help out, but...  
  
Work keeping you busy, right? supplied Lily. Peter shook his head quickly.  
  
No, I'm only on call right now. And besides, I don't officially have a job for a few weeks yet, what with bureaucracy and whatnot.  
  
Then that's perfect! And you can even help me with my Spanish - I need someone to practice on. Here, she said, lifting Harry out of his highchair. you can look after Harry for m-  
  
Ah, I don't think that's the best idea, Peter remarked nervously, backing up slightly. I don't exactly have the best track record with living things...  
  
Oh, don't be ridiculous, laughed Lily. I can't keep plants alive either! A baby's different, don't worry.  
  
But what about James? Peter began, but Lily cut him off.  
  
James will be busy for the next little while, she explained, waiting for James to join in, which he didn't do, as he was busy keeping his peeved silence. Well, he is. Remus can help you out when he gets back, how's that? Without waiting for an answer, Lily deposited Harry in Peter's arms with an air of finality.   
  
Now, just keep him happy for a few seconds, she instructed, while I go check and see if Sirius is still alive.  
  
And with that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Peter with a squirming baby in his arms.  
  
James, this is not good. Please tell me you're not going anywhere, Peter begged, panic edging into his voice.  
  
Sorry, mate. I promised Lily I'd occupy myself until Sirius is healthy, or until she trusts me not to prank him into oblivion, stated James, completely unhurt by the harsh precautions Lily had taken against him. And seeing as though I'll never trust myself not to prank Sirius, I doubt Lily ever will either... Oh, and good luck with Harry, he added as he made his way to the front door.  
  
Peter sputtered for a few seconds after the door had closed behind James, not wanting to believe his current situation. Sighing, he came to a solid conclusion. It was all Sirius' damn fault.  
  


*1975 - Fourth Year*  
  


Remus winced as he observed Sirius from over the top of his glass of orange juice. The latter was engaged in shoveling vast quantities of stolen quiche into his mouth while chatting animatedly at Peter, who had not yet noticed that it was his quiche that Sirius had borrowed indefinitely. This was a true act of mercy on some deity's part, because Remus knew that the instant Peter reacted to this gastronomic burglary, Sirius would be off and running, caught up in the delights of his successful felony.   
  
Normally, this wouldn't be so bad, seeing as though James had the uncanny ability to control Sirius, something Remus and Peter valued immeasurably. Unfortunately, James was currently explaining to Professor Sprout why he'd felt the need to cultivate venom-spitting mushrooms on Sirius' textbook. This was an act that Sirius had found to be hilarious beyond all reason, although, sadly, their professor had not shared his opinion. Remus had been sure that she would have reprimanded Sirius as well as James, but Sirius' expression of surprise (which had metamorphosed rather quickly and suspiciously into one of delight) had been so genuine that it was rather obvious he had not been in on James' plan. Thus he was able to eat lunch with Remus and Peter. Thus Remus was on pins and needles.  
  
Sirius was just devouring the last piece of quiche when he paused suddenly. His eyes were on Peter's salad bowl, so, appropriately, Remus readied himself for the intervention he would have to make in order to prevent Sirius from stealing all of Peter's lunch. But Sirius made no such move, instead turning to an indignant-looking Peter (he'd just now realized his quiche had been purloined) and announced:  
  
Peter, your lettuce is moving.   
  
As one, Peter and Remus swiveled their heads to stare at the salad, which was, in fact, moving. Remus instinctively leaned back, fully prepared to duck and cover. Sirius withdrew his wand, and the wicked gleam in his eyes told Remus that he was about to blast Peter's salad to kingdom come.   
  
Oh, thanks Sirius! You found P.M.! Peter exclaimed jubilantly, plucking what could only be described as a green _thing_ out of the lettuce. Remus, satisfied that this wasn't one of those lunches that put all their lives at risk, resumed his normal posture. He peered at the green thing Peter was holding, scientific interest taking over as Remus attempted to identify further. Sirius, however, beat him to it.  
  
Holy shit, Pete - is that a scorpion? he inquired loudly, so that the entire Great Hall could hear him. Peter blinked in confusion, while Remus focused on the very pleasant mental image of Sirius' head being slammed onto the table repeatedly.  
  
Sirius, do you ever think what you're about to say before you say it, or is it just some sort of free-for-all in that head of yours? the werewolf asked, looking at Sirius with the same expression you bestow upon a five-year-old who's just shoved rocks up their nose.  
  
I try not to think, responded Sirius, gleefully helping himself to a blueberry muffin, and besides, I find my randomness entertaining.   
  
Entertaining isn't the word I'd pick, but never mind, Remus sighed, propping his chin up with his hand and trying to ignore the stares the other students were giving them. Now, let's think: would Peter have picked it up if it was a scorpion? Take a minute for this one, it might be a challenge.  
  
Sirius solemnly assessed a snickering Peter for a moment before shrugging and returning to his muffin. Remus groaned, and Peter let his green thing walk on the table. Remus was about to ask what it was, but was interrupted by the sight of James, who was jogging over to their table, face alight with interest.   
  
Oi, what's this I hear about Peter having a scorpion in his salad? he asked once he'd reached them. James shoved Sirius aside unceremoniously to make room on the bench. Sirius, intent on his blueberry muffin, gave James a half-hearted smack to the head in retaliation. So is it true, Pete?  
  
Well, let's just start by saying it was Sirius who called it a scorpion, Remus began, stopping momentarily to glare at an oblivious Sirius. So that pretty much destroys all credibility the rumour had in the first place.  
  
James nodded sagely, and Sirius finally swallowed his muffin.   
  
All right, fine - maybe it's not a scorpion, Sirius conceded, and everyone gave the green thing a thorough look. James started to laugh.  
  
Sirius, I don't know what sort of scorpions _you've_ seen, but this... he dissolved into giggles, ignoring his best friend's murderous look. Remus had to agree with James - unless Sirius was referring to mutated space scorpions, Peter's was most definitely not a scorpion.  
  
What sort of name is anyways, Sirius stated, fixing Peter with a hard look that clearly blamed the short boy for all his lost dignity. I mean, you might as well get another one and call it , then your collection of crappily named green things will be complete...  
  
It's a praying mantis! Remus blurted out suddenly. Peter grinned, nodding appreciatively. I might also add that praying mantises are in _no_ _way_ related to scorpions, Mr. Black.  
  
So I guess that stands for Praying Mantis, then huh? James noted dryly. Original, Pete - your pet's named for its species' acronym.  
  
Peter blushed profusely, shaking his head shyly.  
  
Actually, it stands for Prantis Mantis he supplied softly, looking at the table. James and Remus exchanged confused looks, while Sirius clapped Peter heartily on the back, laughing uproariously.  
  
Prantis Mantis...oh, _beautiful_! See, Pete here gets it! Randomness is a glorious thing, I tell you! he exclaimed between bouts of laughter. Peter looked half-relieved, half-horrified.  
  
Don't worry, Peter - as long as there's a filter between what you think and what you say, you'll never turn into Sirius, Remus pacified, correctly identifying Peter's angst.  
  
And I, for one, am never going to call the origins of P.M.'s name into question, James stated firmly. There are some things I'm just better off not knowing.  
  
By this point, their dynamic conversation had begun to attract a bit of a crowd, so the unanimous decision was made to spend the rest of lunch outdoors, P.M. and all.  
  
Once they were comfortably settled down by the lake, P.M. was let loose in the grass, where the insect chose to perch completely still for extended periods of time, slowly reaching out a bent foreleg every so often.   
  
Gentlemen, I believe I've seen enough, Sirius announced theatrically after they'd observed the mantid for a few minutes. P.M. is officially the most brilliant pet I have ever seen. Well, the most brilliant pet minus those... things, that do that... thing... You know the ones, he finished lamely.   
  
Uh, we don't, but sure. Anyways, what I'd like to know is where, when and how did you get him? James asked Peter, who was positively beaming at all the attention. Not to mention why - most brilliant pet status aside, that is.  
  
Well, remember yesterday in detention-  
  
Which detention? Sirius interrupted, bringing up a valid point.  
  
Potions, for burning a hole in the floor.  
  
Oh, yeah...  
  
How soon they forget, Remus intoned sarcastically, clearly still bitter for receiving a detention despite having had nothing to do with the incineration of the floor.  
  
Peter continued, trying to win back his audience, while I was sitting there wishing Professor Hayes hadn't split us up, I noticed she had a bunch of praying mantises in a jar sitting on her desk.  
  
Wait a tick, how'd you know they were praying mantises, and not, say, scorpions _pretending_ to be praying mantises? Sirius inquired, a conspiratory look on his face. James heaved a sigh before facing Sirius squarely.  
  
You're just determined to interrupt poor Peter's story, aren't you? he admonished. Peter knows they weren't scorpions pretending to be praying mantises because he's not a... _unique_ thinker, like you are.   
  
That's a way of putting it...  
  
Remus, _please_! Can your bitterness _not_ infiltrate everything concerning Sirius?  
  
Sorry, James - but you can't say my hostility is without reason. Please continue, Peter. My apologies.  
  
That's all right. As I was saying, I noticed some praying mantises in a jar. Well, the thing with praying mantises, and most predators really, is that if you leave them in an enclosed space together, they'll start to eat each other.  
  
  
  
Um, yeah, Sirius, really, Peter certified, regaining his train of thought after a moment. Then I told Professor Hayes that they'd start to eat each other, but she said she didn't care because she was going to boil them the next day, that's today, anyways.  
  
  
  
Not really, Sirius, but whatever. Well, I didn't want to cause any problems, so I didn't say anything and just assumed the mantids were going to die of either cannibalism or boiling, which was sad. But this morning, Professor Hayes came up to me with P.M.! The other praying mantises had started to eat other, which I knew they would, but get this. They all got sick and died! P.M.'s the only one that survived, presumably because he didn't eat any of the other mantids. Professor Hayes thought P.M. was diseased, too, so she couldn't boil him for a potion. So because I seemed to know something about praying mantises, she gave him to me.  
  
Sirius, Remus and James digested this information for a few moments.  
  
So now you have your very own diseased, cannibalistically-inclined praying mantis. Bully for you, Sirius snorted.  
  
Not cannibalistic - he was the only one that didn't try to eat the others, remember? Peter reminded him, frowning lightly.  
  
That's cause he's not man enough.  
  
He's an insect, Sirius, James pointed out, but Sirius waved him off uncaringly.   
  
Details, details.  
  
Speaking of details, interjected Remus, I've found an interesting tidbit regarding the latest folly you three are dragging me into that I'd like to impart upon you all.  
  
Is he referring to Project A-Team, Peter asked Sirius and James, referring to their current goal of becoming Animagi, or something you haven't told me about yet?   
  
He said you three', not the senseless idiots', Pete. He's obviously referring to Project A-Team, not to me and Siri, James replied, Sirius nodding in full agreement before turning back to his lycanthropic friend.  
  
Well, don't keep us waiting, Remmy! Impart away! Remus smiled in a very Mona Lisa-like way, and his friends leaned in closer in anticipation.  
  
Whilst I was poring over the latest in the series of increasingly boring and complicated books concerning the animagus transformation, I came upon some new and shocking information. Apparently, the animal which one becomes depends on the witch or wizard's personality, and is not, as we were previously inclined to think, their decision to make.  
  
Aw, damn! Sirius swore vehemently, this new revelation having very clearly popped his bubble. I was _so_ going to be a praying mantis!  
  
Yes, because that would have been _so_ helpful in containing a werewolf, retorted James dryly. Sirius blinked vacantly for a few seconds.  
  
Wait - what if that happens? he said.  
  
What, you becoming a praying mantis? Not likely - see how motionless and silent P.M. is? Remus remarked coyly. Sirius shook his head, completely solemn.  
  
No, I mean, what if we become moths or something equally helpless? What if we're all puny, ineffective invertebrates? Then Project A-Team would turn out to be utterly useless, unless werewolves happen to have microphobia*!   
  
Bloody hell, you're right! And you're saying there's no way we can rig this, Remus? James asked desperately. Peter and Sirius looked hopefully at Remus, who only shook his head sadly in response.  
  
I know it's a bit of a bombshell right now, but I have a feeling it'll work out okay, the werewolf reassured his companions. As long as one of you three becomes something big, it'll be fine. And being small does have its uses, you know.  
  
That's true, Peter agreed. Just look at P.M.! Sure he's tiny, but praying mantises are amazing predators - watch.  
  
Sure enough, P.M. was slowly stalking a nearby beetle. The mantid crept forward at a glacial pace, when suddenly he struck, crunching the beetle between his forelegs. P.M. then began to methodically rip the beetle's head off, devouring it at a rapid pace. The four teens found this display of invertebrate brutality to be endlessly fascinating.  
  
Absolutely right, Peter. No one would call P.M. helpless, now would they? Remus grinned. Sirius tore his eyes away from the gruesome spectacle that was P.M. feasting in order to respond.  
  
Totally! And as long as I'm not a crane fly, it's all good with me.  
  
A crane fly? questioned James, one eyebrow piqued.  
  
_Yes_, a crane fly! Have you _any_ idea of how _useless_ they are? When they're larvae, they destroy grass by feeding off the roots. When they're full-grown, they don't eat anything and nothing eats them. They just sit there and flitter about disgustingly whenever you disturb them. If that's their place in the circle of life, well, that's just sad, Sirius stated, apparently having given a great deal of thought to this topic. James and Remus laughed, but Peter appeared distraught.  
  
That's exactly the sort of animal I'll turn out to be - a crane fly, or a larva of some sort... he sighed despondently. Sirius, however, only smiled.  
  
So? No one would ever notice you then - think about how much stuff you could get away with if you were small like that! Sirius' eyes lit up at the very thought. Peter looked somewhat comforted, until Sirius added: Unless, of course, you were some exotic animal that everyone would notice.  
  
Peter's face sank, and he began to visualize himself as a rare plumed crane fly.  
  
Speaking of paying attention, James spoke up, eager to change the conversation topic. He didn't get any further, as he was interrupted by Sirius' elated look, which Remus quickly smothered:  
  
Sirius, if you say that you can't afford to pay attention _one_ more time in my life, I swear I'm going to chuck you headfirst from the Astronomy Tower.  
  
Moving on... James smirked. You know who we haven't seen lately? He waited for the chorus of s that soon followed. Snivellus, that's who.   
  
Too true, Jamesiekins! Sirius exclaimed, leaping to his feet and nearly squashing P.M. in the process. Let us away!  
  
But what will I do with P.M.? Peter shouted after Sirius and James, who were racing back to the castle at a frantic pace. Remus was leisurely removing the grass from his t-shirt, taking his sweet time.  
  
Bring him with you! James shouted back over his shoulder. Sirius spun around quickly, jogging backwards a little in order to keep moving.  
  
Yeah, maybe we can sic him on Snape! he laughed, giving Remus and Peter a quick wave before turning around and catching up to James.  
  
Are you coming, Remus? Peter asked, picking up his well-fed praying mantis. Remus wore the look of trepidation and discomfort he usually adopted whenever James and Sirius (who were always flanked by a worshiping Peter) decided to antagonize Snape.  
  
I suppose, he replied dully, attempting a half-hearted grin. They're not as bad as they used to be, Sirius and James I mean...  
  
Yeah, it's much better, lied Peter. He didn't quite understand why Remus was so uncomfortable with their other two friends' teasing of Snape, but he was sympathetic all the same. It was Peter's opinion that Snape deserved whatever ill treatment he got, partially because that was Sirius and James' theory and partially because Peter had always been a little afraid of Snape himself.   
  
By the time Remus and Peter arrived at the scene of the crime, an empty corridor in this case, significant damage had already occurred.  
  
Snape seemed to be in a fighting mood, as James' fingers had been hexed together by a pulsating, red-tinted substance, which effectively rendered him unable to hold his wand. Remus noted, with the kind of academic detachment so typical to him, that gluing someone's fingers together was truly a brilliant defensive maneuver. As it was, he was horrified that the situation was deteriorating so rapidly, at a rate Remus was most unable to stop.  
  
Wow, Sirius! Look what Snivellus has done today - why, I think I might be unable to use my wand in this condition! James said, his tone dripping with false terror. Sirius grinned in a feral way, stepping forward infinitesimally and subtly shifting to the offensive.  
  
Gosh, it appears you're right! Whatever shall we do, wondered a wide-eyed Sirius. He blinked, and the look disappeared, replaced with one of mocking condescension. Or at least, that's what I'd be wondering if I was eight years old! Honestly, Snivellus, he berated, flicking his wand and liberating James' fingers from the adhesive material, you could at least use spells we haven't seen before, you know, make it less boring for us?  
  
I concur wholeheartedly, James piped up, rubbing his hands together a little. Now, would you mind giving me back my wand?  
  
Remus started, looking sharply at Snape, who was indeed holding James' wand. Not good, thought Remus, not good at all.  
  
What do you take me for, Potter? Please, enlighten me - I do take pleasure dissecting the minds of idiots, Snape tossed back. And you can drop the bravado, too - we both know it's an act.  
  
What bravado, snorted Sirius. James raised an eyebrow and stuck his hands in his pockets, showing that he felt this exchange might take awhile. Snape sneered in response, cocking his head slightly to consider Peter, who was observing P.M., who was perched on his forearm.  
  
Oh, look - if it isn't little Pettigrew, he taunted, rewarded when Peter looked up with a anxious expression on his face. Finally found a friend of your own worth, have you?  
  
Sirius' glare intensified, and he took several strides forward to stand in front of Peter. James watched, a wary look on his face, and he and Remus exchanged glances of equal concern.  
  
Back off, Sirius growled protectively, as Peter gazed at his back with gratitude. Snape gave Sirius a very ugly look, and James wished he had his wand.  
  
Get over yourself, Black, snarled Snape, violently pushing Sirius aside before the latter could react. Sirius stumbled backwards a step before regaining his footing, murder in his eyes.  
  
Peter, meanwhile, was noticing that there was no longer anything between his person and Severus Snape. Desperately, he groped for his wand. Not finding it soon enough, he produced the next best thing.   
  
Whoa, Pete! James exclaimed in the background, P.M. may be a predator, but Snape's not a beetle!  
  
But it was too late. P.M. had already been flung.  
  
What the-?! was all Snape had time to say before an overlarge green thing landed on his hooked nose, clinging for dear life.  
  
James wanted so very much to react, but what exactly is the proper procedure for when your friend's pet is attacking your arch enemy's nose, especially when you're on the ground laughing uncontrollably along with your other two friends?  
  
Snape's reaction was less mirthful. The moment he overcame his initial shock, he wrenched P.M. from his face and threw the mantid bodily against the nearest wall.   
  
It seemed to take P.M. an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he smeared off the wall. Peter saw the look of mingled neutrality and blankness on his pet's yellow**, once green, face as he fell to the ground.   
  
Peter heard Snape's triumphant girly scream, but knew it meant nothing - P.M. had only hit the only hit the wall at high speed, he would revive any second...  
  
But P.M. did not move.  
  
Peter yelled.   
  
He fell to the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. P.M. had just hit the wall, he, Peter, would revive him...  
  
But as he reached the area where P.M. lay, Sirius grabbed Peter around the chest, holding him back.  
  
There's nothing you can do, Peter-  
  
Get him, save him, he's only just been squashed!  
  
-it's too late, Peter.  
  
We can still save him- Peter struggled hard and viciously, but Sirius would not let go...  
  
There's nothing you can do, Peter... nothing... he's gone. ~*~  
  
It was an angst-filled moment, ruined only by James and Remus' hysterical laughter. Sirius was appalled.  
  
You two are _so_ callous! Someone's _died_! P.M. will be no more, you prats! he said fiercely, pausing a while in hopes that his words would sink in. They didn't. Oh, come _on_! Dead! D-E-A-D! You wouldn't laugh like that if _I _died!  
  
Yeah, well, began James, that depends. If you died like that, then yes. Yes, we would. Because that's damn funny. Like getting hit by a nappy truck!  
  
Peter just sat there, staring at P.M. in a grieving silence. Snape moved towards where Peter's sad figure slumped, and for a wild moment, Remus thought the greasy-haired teen was going to comfort Peter.  
  
His hopes were dashed when Snape's foot reached out and stomped on P.M.'s already deceased and mangled form, grinding it into the stone floor.  
  
Snape stated simply, before removing his foot and stalking off towards a grassy patch outside, where he proceeded to wipe P.M.'s mortal remains from his shoe.  
  
In that instant, Remus knew there would never be peace between the two camps. Ever.  
  
James said, addressing his friends, when are we gonna avenge P.M.'s oh-so tragic death?  
  
I request no retaliation, in honour of P.M.'s pacifistic ways, stated Peter simply from his position on the floor. I just wasn't meant for keeping things alive...  
  
P.M. wasn't pacifistic - we watched him disembowel a beetle, Sirius protested, a bit confused. Peter faced him with a withering glare.  
  
He's _my_ dead praying mantis, and I'll have whatever fond memories of him as I so choose, thank you very much! Peter snapped. And besides, it's _your_ fault P.M. died - you told me to throw him at Snape!  
  
I was fricken joking, dumb one! You should never listen to me anyways!  
  
Peter knew this was true and returned to staring at P.M.'s mutilated corpse. Never again would he love a mantid...  
  


*end flashback*  
  


Much to Peter's astonishment, he managed to keep Harry alive and in good health until Lily came back downstairs, frowning and muttering worriedly under her breath.  
  
Well, he's alive and stable, Lily announced in a would-be light tone of voice. Although I've never seen anyone get that sick that fast before...  
  
Think of it this way, Peter offered, passing Harry back to his mother, Sirius hasn't been truly, horribly, my-eyelids-hurt sick in all the years I've known him - all the sicknesses in the world have simply caught up to him, is all.  
  
I suppose... she grimaced, not much comforted. Lily suddenly smiled as she looked down at her three month old son. In better medical news, Harry seems to have survived just fine without being under my supervision - congrats.  
  
Peter gulped, almost wishing something horrible had happened just so he wouldn't have to babysit again.  
  
Right then - I'm going out for a bit, Lily told him, bouncing Harry on her hip a little. I have to pick up the Spanish workbooks I ordered.  
  
Peter wondered, thinking she had been joking earlier when she'd expressed a desire to practice her Spanish on him.  
  
Yes, I decided last night that I'm going to learn at least one second language - it'll give me something to do. I called a bunch of bookstores yesterday evening regarding language instruction books, and most people were under the impression that Spanish is the easiest language to learn, she explained, transferring Harry back to a now-resigned looking Peter. So I put some material on hold, and I'm picking it up today.  
  
I see. Heading to Diagon Alley, then? Or at least London, Peter guessed, but Lily shook her head amusedly.  
  
No and no again, Peter. I'm out to see if my inter-continental apparation skills are up to par.  
  
You're kidding- gaped Peter. Lily winked, nodding gamely.  
  
Yep, I'm off to Mexico!  
  
Why not Spain? Peter was almost afraid to ask.  
  
Because that'd be too easy, she replied easily, without a moment's hesitation.  
  
...Of course...  
  
Well, see you later! That is, if I don't splinch myself... Wish me luck!  
  
Peter gave a feeble good luck' as Lily let herself out (Harry blew a spit bubble in honour of the occasion). Peter wondered where the hell Remus was as he sat down in the kitchen after seating Harry in his highchair and brewing himself a very strong cup of coffee.  
  
Thankfully, Remus turned up only minutes after Lily had made her Mexico-bound departure, and Peter was no longer solely in charge.  
  
Remus listened patiently to Peter's play-by-play of all the events that had taken place after the werewolf had left, and was more than sympathetic to Peter's situation.   
  
But you know, Wormtail, Harry isn't like a plant - Lily was right about that part, Remus soothed as Peter got to the end of his story.  
  
Oh, I was more thinking along the lines of a certain green, acronym-named creature... the Animagus brooded, that death still clearly hanging over his head. Remus suppressed his laughter, taking a sip of his coffee.  
  
Now _that_ I understand... Hey, where did you say James went? asked Remus, curious as to what the man could be up to.   
  
No clue, Peter responded, giving a nondescript shrug.  
  
Do you know when he'll be ba-  
  
SLAM!  
  
Ah, never mind, Remus finished neatly, and the duo listened as the enthusiastic stomping sounds that could only belong to James floated in from the foyer. James himself appeared in the kitchen seconds later, face red with anger.  
  
Can you _believe_ those buggers?! he fumed, dropping himself into the chair next to Harry's highchair. Peter and Remus exchanged looks.  
  
And those buggers you speak of, who would they be? inquired Remus with the utmost delicacy. James' eyes narrowed, and he looked the very picture of absolute rage.  
  
Those buggers would be those damn uppity members of the London Yacht Club, those fuc-  
  
The London Yacht Club? Peter interrupted. Why would you know members of the London Yacht Club?  
  
Because I joined the goddamn club, James sputtered frustratedly. For a good fifteen minutes, I was a member myself, but noooo! James Potter isn't good enough to be a part of the London Yacht Club, apparently, he extrapolated, ample doses of bitterness and sarcasm punctuating his words.  
  
said Remus quietly, with the air of one trying to avoid a bespectacled, messy-haired landmine, you don't own a yacht.  
  
Well, thank you, Captain Obvious! James fairly exploded, completely forgetting the fact that there was a baby in the room. Fortunately, Harry looked just as apprehensive as Remus and Peter, keeping completely silent. I was like, Hi, I'm James Potter and I'm a new member of the London Yacht Club!' and they're like, Well, hallo there, James! And what model do you own?' and I was like, Silly Londoners, I have no such thing!' and they're like, You don't have a yacht?' and I'm like, Not even a toy one.' and they're like, You can't be a part of this club unless you're a yacht owner!' and I'm like, Stop oppressing me, you snobs! I can be in a yacht club if it happens to makes me happy, damnit!' and they're like, What are you, stupid?' and I'm like, Cheh, kind of!' and they're like, Get out!' and I'm like, Make me, starchfaces!' and they're like, SECURITY!' and I'm like, Wow, I'm _so_ out of here!'. And, uh, that's more or less what happened.   
  
Harry started to cry, and Peter didn't blame him - he'd cry too if his father was an idiot of colossal proportions.  
  
It frightens me that you actually walk the streets, Remus stated finally, while James attempted to pacify his child.   
  
Yes, well, shut up!  
  
I'm just saying...  
  
But at after that point, conversation became impossible, as Harry was now wailing at roughly the noise level of a jet engine. James eventually had to cart him out of the room, wearing a very pained expression whilst the baby blew out his eardrums. He returned a few moments later, without Harry, whose muffled screaming could still be heard from upstairs.  
  
Meh, let Sirius deal with him... explained James distractedly as he reached for the coffee maker. Peter looked up, surprised.  
  
Sirius is awake? he asked, thinking that that revelation rather defied Lily's earlier prognosis of Sirius being very ill. James smirked, a devillish look in his eye.  
  
Oh, not yet - but he will be soon!  
  
Remus and Peter groaned collectively.  
  
James, you can't leave a three-month-old baby in the care of a man who's barely conscious and practically dying! Remus fairly whined, Peter nodding in frantic agreement beside him. For God's sake, Sirius could infect Harry! ... Mind you, I'd like to see the guilt trip he'd go through over that one...  
  
James sighed, upset that his brilliant plan had been foiled so quickly. He stood up, prepared to retrieve his son, when the sound of Sirius screaming came from upstairs in unison to Harry's howling. James did some imaginative cursing before heading upstairs at high speed.  
  
Dear God, he's probably realized his hair didn't get washed last night...  
  
Once more, Peter and Remus were left alone in the kitchen. Deciding that the room had bad vibes, they migrated to the family room. Remus brought in a bag he had left in the foyer, pulling out a tape which he waved entrancingly in front of Peter, who knew not the danger inherent, poor man.  
  
And so, the duo settled in to watch Remus' much-needed happy movie, which may or may not be a good thing.  
  


* * *  
  


* Microphobia: the fear of small things. There, you _have_ learned something. Write home and tell your folks.  
  
** This comment comes from my (demi)beta, who so pleasantly informed me that bugs' insides are yellow, you know. Well, no, I didn't know, but now I do. And now a whole population of fic readers do, too. Thanks, Kayla, and good luck on winning the Nobel Prize for that revelation...  
  
~*~ Akurei does _not _pass go, does _not_ collect a hundred dollars, but goes straight to hell. You'll never look at OotP the same way again (this may be a good thing). If anyone feels horribly violated, that was the point. If anyone feels I've blasphemized OotP and Sirius' death beyond all recognition, that was the other point. Somebody had to do it. For my real, non-heretic thoughts on OotP and Padfoot's untimely passing, read my LJ. There's a rant in there somewhere...  
  
  
Final-fricken-ly! I thought I'd never finish this chapter - the beginning of school has sapped the lifeblood out of me, I tell you.  
  
I hate to tell you guys, but my chapter updates may become monthly affairs, like I feared. Thankfully, I often post chapter snippets up on my Livejournal (you'll find a bit of this chapter there, actually, but no one noticed!), so if you really can't wait, I will supply my faithful readers with teasers. Of course, I do recommend waiting until the entire chapter is posted, for sheer continuity purposes. But it is interesting to see stuff in its unpolished format, isn't it?  
  
Speaking of unpolished... IS ANYONE INTERESTED IN BETA-ING ME? I do, as you may have noticed, have a beta, who is my close-personal-muchloved-friend Kayla, who goes under the penname of Alexandrea-Riddle. However, I came to the realization that I need an unbiased, objective editor - someone who'll spot my grammar errors and tell me when things aren't working or making sense.   
  
If that's you, e-mail me [akurei_mossgreenbrown@hotmail.com] or drop me a review (or a comment: www.livejournal.com/~super_drive). Tell me a bit about your writing/beta-ing history as well as yourself personally. Also, it'd be nice if you could test beta one of SaaD's chapters (one of your choice) so to show me your abilities. I actually don't expect anyone to take me up on this, but consider it: you get to read chapters before ANYONE ELSE. And you'd earn my undying gratitude. ^_~  
  
**Reviews:  
im not alive: **I _adore_ exclamation points!!!! Thank you muchly! **SilverWolf: **Ooh, literary device. Yes, the puns. They are beautiful. And, judging from the increasingly weighty page count for each chapter, it's starting to look like a saga to me, too. ^ ^; Thanx!  
**Ephemeron: **Hey, you picked up on that! I didn't know it was called purple-patching - I learnt something new! It was the product of having to write a personals ad for English class - no, you don't want to know. Thanks ever so for putting me on your faves list! I get such a warm fuzzy glow from that... Sorry, a scintillating glow. ^_~   
**Senshichan14: **SWEET! I get CANDY! *squeals* The song parodies are an undecided issue, but they'll never become a priority over SaaD, so no worries there. This fic is my baby, and no one, not even my Biology 12 homework, will take it away from me! Big thanks, and do take some candy for yourself! Signed  
**Cristin: ** This review brings a smile to my face every time I read it - that means so much to me, seeing as though this fic was born out of my determination to add to the tiny list of good HP fanfics. It seems that I've made that list after all! *beams* Mais oui, Remus shall get his happy movie - though maybe not one you'd expect... Thank you for the lovely review! Anonymous  
**sirius the homicidal maniac: **Wow, what a penname! Actually, I did come up with a title (although a good conspiracy never hurt anyone, eh?). I always post my titles in the actual text - you'll find it right below the top author's comments. About the song parodies, read my response to Senshichan14. In terms of keeping you occupied, check my LJ for chapter snippets, as I've said above. I haven't found out what my loyal, devoted, obsessive fans do, exactly, yet. I'm kind of hoping I don't have to. Muchas gracias for losing sleep in order to review - why can't all readers be like you?!   
**_eep:** Yeep! So sorry for ever doubting you - especially when I'm on your browser favorites list, of all places! I didn't think length would be an issue, no. ^_^ Thanks again!  
**S-A: **Oh, I do write lots - mostly when I don't have the time. This is my first fully developped fanfic, though. Not to say I haven't won a few accolades writing real fiction... *insert gloating here* I expect to entertain you lots more, particularly since I've gotten glowing reviews like this one! Thank you! This is certainly not my last appearance in the HP fandom. I don't want to jump the gun, but I think I can tell you a secret: I'm thinking of writing a sequel. Ssh!   
**ltnikki: **I would tend to agree with you completely - thank you for your honesty. Hope this new chapter is up to your expectations!  
**c.g.**: Excellent, more people that aren't clueless about languages! It translates more to Me the love you, as Veridian Magpie was so clever to point out. On the topic of Remus' happy movie, I love your argument in favor of it. It's so...articulate! (Actually, this review sounds like one I would write..o_O) Don't worry, I prefer insane to sane any day of the week! Thanx! Anonymous  
**sailoranime:** Yes, drywall. Just accept - it's easier. Sirius will get better...in time. ^_~ Yeah, my lack of direction with the whole Petunia-thing really shows, and I'm well aware. I think I had ideas of giving her a hilarious exit, but that kind of fizzled in a big way. Of course something happens at the video store - how could it not? This is James we're talking about, after all - someone nearly as insane as Padfoot, all things considered. The chapter title is in the text - see my response to sirius the homicidal maniac. Anonymous  
  
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!  
  
**sailoranime** has nominated me for the Harry Potter Fanfiction Awards () in the Best James Potter Era (In Progress) category. So if you like this fic, be sure to vote for me by September 20th if you want an award for your darling Akurei! I don't expect to win a damn thing, but support is beautiful! And go email sailoranime to tell her she's a wonderful person for bestowing this great honour upon me. YAY! I'm on a huge high because of this, just so you know! ^_^  
  
NEXT TIME: According to Remus, hippies never go out of style. According to Sirius, Remus' John Lennon glasses are going to be his within the hour. Pull up a chair, it's Beatlemania 101! Just don't tell Remus he's a decade late.


	5. I Feel Alternately Fine

Disclaimer: The SARS virus went to the meeting on Saturday, in an unexpected show of viral altruism. Buddha left the meeting as soon as he spotted the SARS virus sitting next to me - I suspect they're having a bit of a spat - so the Harry Potter ownership deal is delayed until further notice. Or until the divine and the diseased reconcile.  
  
RANDOM EVENT OF THE CHAPTER:  
The author cannot apologize enough for the delay. She can only beg for forgiveness, and hope her wonderful, fabulous readers understand that her life has been stupidly busy in the last few months.   
  
She will now hang her head in shame.  
  
SPOILERS: For Sirius' family, I suppose. If it's news to you that Sirius' mum was, er, alternately friendly, then this chapter will probably shock you horribly.   
  
  


* * *  
  
CHAPTER 5: I Feel (Alternately) Fine  
  


Sirius, for the love of Quidditch, it's nothing some conditioner won't fix-   
  
NO! NO! IT'S RUINED! RUINED!!!!  
  
How can you be so sick, and yet so loud?  
  
RUI- it's a gift.  
  
And then Sirius threw up, missing James' socks entirely this time. The stag Animagus glared at his best friend, more than a little peeved, while Harry silently observed his godfather from his position in James' arms.  
  
Sirius, the more you yell and thrash about, the more nauseous you're gonna get, he explained curtly. Sirius, in return, gave James the best dirty look he could muster while vomiting into a bucket. Oh, go ahead - give me the evil eye all you want. It's not going to change the fact that you brought this upon yourself.  
  
Excuse me, but I don't quite recall asking to come down with some godforsaken disease, James, Sirius replied acridly as soon as his head was out of the bucket.  
  
True, but by going into hysterics over your bloody hair, you're only making it worse.  
  
No, YOU'RE only making it worse, argued Sirius, who was possibly being even more stubborn than usual. James squeezed his eyes shut in frustration while Sirius threw up again.  
  
Padfoot, just stop talking and maybe you won't lose your lunch, and dinner, every ten seconds. Prat, he added, just for good measure.  
  
I'm suffering, here! Show me a little sympathy! moaned the canine Animagus, face turning a lurid green hue. Contrary to appearances, this isn't exactly fun!  
  
Nobody ever said it looks like fun, Siri, pacified James indulgently, ignoring Sirius' baleful look. Although, if you asked Harry, I'm sure he'd tell you it's the most interesting thing he's seen all day. Sirius rolled his eyes, grinning a little.  
  
No, he's probably sizing me up as competition for who's the best projectile vomiter, he joked feebly. No worries there, Harry - s'long as I've got a bucket by my side, no lunch of mine will travel more than a couple of inches.  
  
Then a bucket you shall always have, James decreed magnanimously, absolutely serious. We can't have you attempting the sprint to the loo every time you get a bit queasy, now can we.  
  
James, if you're even going to _start_ complaining about the white decor... Sirius stated warningly, but it had no effect.  
  
I mean, I don't know _what_ Lily was thinking! White hallways, white bathroom... It's unnatural, that's what it is. I feel like I live in a mental institution - which is where I'll probably end up if she decides the bedrooms need the sterile treatment... And I'm not even going to talk about the profound psychological repercussions this'll have on Harry - hell, Lily'll probably make him and me wear plastic socks whenever we're upstairs! I bet she'd disown me if I so much as rubbed the carpet the wrong way. And just last week, I made a tiny smudge on a bathroom drawer, and she goes all apocalyptic on me! It's enough to make a guy renounce personal hygiene altogether. I suppose Remus approves, although if it were up to Mr. Clean Freak, he'd have the entire house covered in plastic wrap. Mind you, that'd be good prank fodder, don'tcha think, Padfoot? ... Padfoot?  
  
James, over the course of that rant, I threw up three times.  
  
What's that supposed to mean? James replied with great indignity, but Sirius refused to answer. And stop all your damn griping - it could be worse.  
  
How so? The only thing worse than this would be if I had to go through it as a dog, reflected Sirius. James gave him a confused look, which made him bear acute resemblance to a deer stuck in the headlights. Not too swift today, are we, Jiminypookins? Dogs eat their vomit, duh.  
  
Gross! Wait, you just called me Jiminypookins.  
  
Not easily deferred, are we?  
  
Never! Now, about this Jiminypookins' -  
  
But James didn't get a chance to finish, since Peter had just burst into the guest room, babbling hysterically and, unfortunately, incoherently.   
  
Calm down, Peter! James exclaimed, stricken. Peter took several large gulps of air, and Sirius rather thought he was hyperventilating. Now, tell us slowly - what's going on?  
  
Peter stuttered, not able to get a single word out.  
  
Remus? What about Remus? demanded James, knowing his friend well enough to make sense of his monosyllables. Peter gave up speech altogether then, and began to gesture frantically.   
  
Sirius muttered something that might have been: Goody, I love charades!, but it was hard to tell when one's head is in a bucket.   
  
Okay, Remus is.. Remus is what? Jumping? Sky diving? Yodeling? James tried, clearly at a loss. Peter intensified his signaling, not ready for language just yet.   
  
Good God, man - you suck at this! was the first thing Sirius declared once his insides were no longer wriggling. James turned around to look at him, hurt.  
  
Oh, really? Well then be my guest, Mr. Hotshot! he intoned sarcastically, sweeping his arms in a dramatic gesture towards Peter, who redoubled his efforts, now focusing on Sirius.  
  
OK, three words. A movie? Yes? Yes, a movie. First word - a short word. A? It? The? ... The? Smashing, a movie title that starts with the' - there's only what, fourteen billion of those around... Second word - a shape? A design? I'm close? A colour? Uh, black. No, huh. Thought I might try that one first, you know... OK: blue, red, purple, pink, yellow, green, oran- I passed it? Well, why didn't you stop me? Fine, whatever. Orange. Green. Yellow. It's yellow, then. Right, third wor-  
  
Submarine! Remus is downstairs watching The Yellow Submarine'! Peter blurted out suddenly. Sirius huffed, upset that their impromptu game of charades had been aborted.  
  
You're kidding! This is not good, James said, a bit of fear creeping into his voice. Sirius, hate to annoy and run, but...  
  
Oh, fine. Just leave the invalid here, all alone. It's not like I care... pouted Sirius, rapidly sinking into a bad mood. He crossed his arms and stared at the wall fixedly, trying very hard not to retch.  
  
OK, then! Don't go asphyxiating yourself, now! And no eating the contents of the bucket! directed James cheerily, heading out the door with Peter at a fast clip. Their exit was heralded by the lovely sound of Sirius vomiting once more.  
  
So Remus is watching The Yellow Submarine'? How far in is he? James questioned Peter as they shuffled down the stairs.  
  
Just in the opening credits, I think. I ran up as soon as I realized -  
  
You did the right thing, Wormtail. We both know this operation is best performed in numbers, said James worriedly.  
  
James made his way into the family room slowly and with extreme caution, trailed closely by Peter.  
  
James ventured, startling Remus enough to cause said lycanthrope's head to swivel around at an alarming speed.  
  
the werewolf whined loudly, pupils dilated to an unnatural size.  
  
Remus, step away from the screen, ordered James in what he hoped was a good imitation of absolute authority. Remus whimpered rather pitifully before replying in a manner much less eloquent than usual.  
  
he keened, glancing back and forth frenetically between the television screen and his two friends.  
  
Come on, Moony - you know they always save Pepperland in the end, James continued, confident that he had the upper hand.  
  
But what if they don't, Remus stated quietly, in what could only be described as a cryptic tone. What if Pepperland is occupied completely by the Blue Meanies, resulting in socioeconomic fallout and severe drops in tourism, population growth and national living standards? What if the anarchic and strict disciplinarian regime adopted by the Blue Meanies becomes the status quo in all surrounding states of power, resulting in a global occupation that would cripple civilization as we know it? What if this movement towards the archaic progresses still further into a repeat of the foul living conditions and political corruption observed in the Dark Ages?  
  
There were two blank stares, followed by a long, questioning silence.  
  
Well, okay, that may be true, Peter chimed in after a few minutes of absolute quiet had passed. But it's also true that this movie does bad things to your state of being, Remus. And with that amazing reasoning, Peter stepped between Remus and the telly.  
  
This action, though simple in nature, was one with significance roughly equivalent to stepping between a female bear and her cubs.  
  
Remus reacted with near if not equal ferocity.  
  
Without so much as a snarl to alert Peter of his oncoming attack, the lycanthrope pounced upon him at lightning speed, teeth bared. Peter barely flinched as Remus lunged towards him, uttering instead words more powerful than Avada Kedavra.  
  
Remus, I think John Lennon's glasses are ugly.  
  
James gasped, while Remus looked as though he'd been punched in the gut. Peter turned around, shut off the television, ejected the tape and tossed it to James.   
  
Now's your chance, Prongs - rid the world of the evil that is Yellow Submarine'! Peter cried, clearly caught up in the moment. James raised an eyebrow before ambling out of the room, calmly pulling the tape off the reels. He could be heard going up the stairs, yelling at Sirius as he did so.  
  
Hey, Sirius - do you remember that spell that blows things up?  
  
Which one?! came the best shout Sirius could muster while sick.  
  
Peter strained his ears slightly to pick out James' response, which sounded suspiciously like: Oh, you know the one...with the flames, and the bang, and the searing heat....  
  
Peter, I can't believe you! How can you _not_ like John Lennon's glasses?  
  
Abruptly, Peter realized Remus was talking to him, and no longer going for his jugular. Even more abruptly, he realized he'd have to backpedal at great speeds in order to escape the werewolf's rage.  
  
Well, it's not that I don't like them, it's just that I don't...er...appreciate them like you do! Peter finished, knowing by the look on Remus' face that he was going down in flames.  
  
I'll appreciate you, Remus snarled in a most threatening manner. Not only was he angry over having had Yellow Submarine taken from him, but now he had Peter's apparent sacrilege to rage over.   
  
Peter, all former bravado having left him, fled upstairs to the questionable safety of James and Sirius.  
  
He was horrified to note, upon entering the guest's room, that the duo still had not disposed of the deadly tape, which was lying on the floor between James and the bed.  
  
What the bloody hell are you two gits waiting for, the rat Animagus shrieked, James and Sirius turning to look at him with calm interest.   
  
Well, it's a waste if we just explode it the normal way, James stated in response. There's no fun in having it burst into flames, is there? Sirius nodded in a superior sort of way before adding:  
  
Quite. It's so infallibly common, he drawled, aristocracy written everywhere on his features. James laughed appreciatively, but that didn't block out the sound of Remus coming up the stairs. Peter gave one last ditch effort.  
  
Guys, Remus is after my blood! Could you two please, _please_ destroy that tape before he - eep!  
  
Before I _what_?  
  
Remus Lupin stood in the doorway, murder in his eyes. James applauded pompously while Sirius threw up, hailing the werewolf's entrance with enthusiastic bravo's.   
  
We're doomed, thought Peter, utterly, utterly doomed.  
  
It was then that Sirius removed his head from the bucket, plucked his wand from where it had been sitting on the bedside table and pointed it at the tape, muttering a spell Peter hoped would demolish the damn thing.  
  
The second Sirius finished pronouncing his spell, James grabbed a pillow and slammed it in front of his eyes. Sirius did the same thing, which Peter found to be very strange behaviour, as the two usually found great pleasure in watching their handiwork unfold. He was about to call them on this bizarre reaction, but didn't get the chance.  
  
The room exploded with an intense white light that immediately began to do its darndest in burning out Peter's retinas. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, which had little to no effect, while Remus roared something that sounded like: My eyeballs! You've liquefied my eyeballs!  
  
Abruptly, the light disappeared, leaving in its wake the distinct smell of burning. For a split second, Peter thought Remus' eyeballs really had been liquefied, or perhaps the burning was coming from his.   
  
Peter blinked furiously, and was enormously relieved when the room began to come into focus again. Sirius and James had dropped their pillows and were staring at the miniature bonfire taking place on the floor, the same spot where the tape had once rested.  
  
See, it produces the same effect in the long run, just with added flair, Sirius was explaining to an impressed-looking James. Basically, it's just your regular exploding spell, with a beefed-up Lumos charm on it as a side dish.  
  
That's some side dish, James remarked, grinning. I could see it through the pillow, even!  
  
Yes, well, I'm a genius, stated Sirius, as though that little fact answered everything. Remus gave his bloodshot eyes one last rub before scoffing in reply.  
  
Menace is more like it, he growled, giving Sirius a death glare.  
  
Ah, well, the canine Animagus said airily. I suppose society just isn't ready for me yet, eh, Prongs?  
  
Pish posh, Mr. Lupin here is simply in awe of your talents, Padfoot! James answered gaily. Now, Wormtail. What's all this Remus is after my blood' business about?  
  
He insulted John Lennon's glasses, Remus interrupted coolly, and Peter laughed nervously. And that is impudence.  
  
giggled James. Sirius, meanwhile, looked thoughtful.   
  
Didn't I have a pair of John Lennon glasses way back when? he wondered aloud, blue eyes narrowed with concentration. Remus gave him a withering look.  
  
No, _I_ had a pair of John Lennon glasses. _You_ stole them from me.  
  
That's what I mean - didn't I have a pair?  
  
Just because you bloody stole them doesn't mean they're _yours_! Remus exploded, what little patience he'd had at the beginning of the conversation now at dangerously low levels. Sirius' head dove back into the bucket in response.  
  
Well said, Peter muttered under his breath. He turned to face Remus, figuring now was a good time to apologize, since the werewolf's rage had been deflected by Sirius. Look, Moony, I said it so James could get Yellow Submarine' away from you. That movie unbalances you - I did it out of friendly concern for your well-being.  
  
Just because that movie speaks to me on levels you couldn't possibly conceive of doesn't mean it's a negative influence! Now give it back! demanded Remus heatedly. He was met with a thick silence (Sirius had stopped emptying his stomach).  
  
Er, Remus? James began tentatively. Remember the big, blinding light just a few minutes ago?  
  
Oh, yes, the one that nearly incinerated my eyes, that does ring a bell, the lycanthrope acknowledged sarcastically. What about it?  
  
Well, let's just say that I didn't do that just for kicks, Sirius elaborated carefully. He paused, considering his words for a moment. OK, I did it partially for kicks, but there was a point to it!  
  
Remus contemplated his three friends quietly, not liking the way this was going.  
  
And this point you speak of, what was it, pray tell?  
  
Sirius and James exchanged uncomfortable looks, while Peter inspected his shoes, feeling guilty by association.  
  
The point was to blow Yellow Submarine' to Kingdom Come, Sirius sighed, tossing a defeated hand up in the air briefly. Sorry, and all that.  
  
If the previous silence had been long and uneasy, it was nothing like the one that followed Sirius' statement. When it ended, a forcedly calm Remus spoke to each of his friends in turn, as though sentencing them.  
  
Peter, your involvement with this was limited but crucial. I forgive you, but don't expect a lovely Christmas present. James, it hurts me that you would plot the destruction of one of my most cherished items so lightly. I will eventually forgive you, but in the meantime, our interactions will be a delicate and painful affair. But only for you, for I will find your discomfort to be amusing. Sirius, Remus continued, stopping shortly in order to take a deep breath. Sirius, there are no words. I shall not speak to you, look at you or acknowledge your existence from this moment onwards, unless it is to mock you. There is to be no forgiveness.  
  
yelped Sirius. But you forgave me after the whole Whomping Willow incident, and that was way wor -  
  
NO FORGIVENESS ABSOLUTELY, I SAY!!!  
  
Remus stormed from the room, no doubt off to procure some chocolate for himself. Peter let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and James visibly relaxed. Sirius stared at the space where Remus had stood, horrified.  
  
Well, my life officially sucks, he deadpanned.  
  
At least you're throwing up less, James offered in a would-be optimistic tone of voice. He'll forgive you eventually, you know that.  
  
Yeah, but think of all the chocolate I'll have to buy him, Sirius groaned, mentally kissing the tune-up job he'd been planning to give D.B. goodbye. Peter gave him a sympathetic smile.  
  
Maybe we can all get him something together. I mean, face it - we're all in the doghouse, the short man sniggered.  
  
Some more literally than others, a smirking James added. Sirius observed them both calmly, feeling his lunch move up his esophagus before saying:   
  
Hey, guys, c'mere for a sec...   
  


*1972 - Second Year*  
  


Sirius eyed Platform 9 and 3/4's large clock with a mounting sense of dread. Ten minutes remained until the train left - ten minutes during which he had to avoid his friends at any and all costs. Or, depending on his luck, ten minutes to keep his mother and younger brother otherwise occupied.  
  
Stop fidgetting, you little idiot, Mrs. Black snapped, nearly vexed beyond all endurance with her eldest. When Sirius all but ignored her, she clamped a finely-manicured hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to leave a significant bruise. I think you've embarassed me quite enough already, don't you?  
  
Unable to wrench himself free, Sirius contented himself by glaring at the passers-by, many of whom regarded Sirius and his mother with mild reproach.   
  
What, thought Sirius heatedly, never seen evil incarnate before?  
  
Sirius briefly entertained the thought of throwing himself in the path of the Hogwarts Express, screaming something about the horror, the horror. He decided that he might have to try that sometime, once he figured out how to simultaneously dodge and embark on a moving train.   
  
Sirius, why is that boy waving at us? Regulus asked, interrupting Sirius' pleasant fantasy. Sirius stared at his younger sibling with a certain degree of surprise - Regulus had not said more than a monosyllable to him the entire summer, after all. His surprise quickly turned to mild panic when Mrs. Black looked up in the direction Regulus was pointing to, releasing Sirius' shoulder as she did so.   
Oi, Sirius! Come over here, mate!  
  
Sirius knew the smart thing to do would be to not look up, to just pretend he didn't know exactly who with the messy black hair and spectacles was waving at him so enthusiastically not 30 feet from where the Black family stood. Unfortunately, Sirius lived not by reason but by his emotions, which were of the firm opinion that self-preservation was extremely overrated. Besides, making a scene was his raison d'être.  
  
Who is that, exactly, Mrs. Black intoned coldly, narrowing her eyes as James Potter came closer into view. Don't tell me someone like you made friends...  
  
Yes, actually, I have, Sirius replied sardonically, adrenaline beginning to course through his veins. And to think, I didn't have to bribe or threaten anyone to do it! You might want to try it sometime, Mother - it's much more economical, not to mention less illegal.  
  
Regulus inhaled sharply and excused himself to a restroom, sensing confrontation and knowing out of experience that getting far, far away was the best course of action. Sirius hoped his brother realized that it was his own damn fault for pointing out James in the first place, the miserable berk.   
  
You filthy, worthless, disappointment of a son! How dare you, Mrs. Black began, her voice beginning to carry across the platform, causing some heads to turn and stare. Sirius' ears blocked her out instinctively as her tirade progressed, crescendoing rather spectacularly.  
  
Temper, temper Mother, he interrupted, simpering in a damn good imitation of his cousin Bellatrix, You mustn't embarass yourself! And with that, Sirius grabbed his trolley and forged through the crowd at a fast jog, despite knowing that his mother would never dream of following him and causing a scene.  
  
His blue eyes found the clock again, which held much more encouraging news this time. Less than five minutes were left until the Hogwarts Express left the station, and Sirius would not have to see his family again for ten months (assuming no one requested his presence at Christmas, which Sirius somehow did not find very likely).  
  
Sirius, are you deaf?! Over here! Sirius' ears all but pricked up at the sound of James' voice, and he followed the sound to where his friend stood.  
  
James huffed, once Sirius had parked his trolley next to James'. I thought you were ignoring me... Was that your mum you were standing with?  
  
Sirius nodded, inwardly pledging to regale James with the story of his great escape at some later date.   
  
And your brother too, right? James continued , looking closely at Sirius, who rolled his eyes.  
  
Yep, that was Regulus. Mother's taken to parading him about now that I'm the disappointment of the family, Sirius stated matter-of-factly, running a hand through his hair.  
  
James looked like he was about to say something, but was cut out by the sound of the train's whistle piercing the air. The pair boarded quickly, as James had wanted to avoid saying goodbye to his parents, a conversation he suspected would entail little more than half-hearted warnings for him to stay out of trouble.  
  
Hey, let's see if we can hunt down Remus and Peter, suggested James eagerly, the minute they had finished loading their trunks. Sirius only grinned in response, already looking forward to seeing his other two friends again.  
  
They began to stroll leisurely down the aisle in search of Remus and Peter, talking as though they'd never spent two months apart.   
  
After a few minutes of search, James caught sight of Peter, who was buying enough Chocolate Frogs from the witch with the trolley to last them through the next five apocalypses. Or the remainder of the train ride, as it would turn out.  
  
Peter, good to see you! James greeted, smiling as Peter offered him and Sirius a Chocolate Frog each. Have you seen Remus around, by any chance?  
  
Yes, we met up on the platform, Peter supplied. He's inside looking over my Charms essay - apparently I can't differentiate between effect' and affect' to save my life.  
  
Well, unless Remus takes to killing anyone who uses a word wrongly, I highly doubt that you'll ever find yourself in such a situation, Pete, decreed Sirius, sweeping into the compartment alongside James and Peter, only to stop dead in his tracks the second he caught sight of the pseudo-grammarian in question. James gave him an irritated shove, but Sirius remained stock-still, staring at Remus, who stared back with a somewhat unnerved expression.   
  
James and Peter reverted to squeezing by him in order to sit down across from Remus, James elbowing Sirius with more force than was truly necessary.  
  
You didn't get out much this summer, did you? Remus asked carefully, as though Sirius might spontaneously combust at any given second. Sirius gave no sign he had even heard his friend, too wrapped up in gawking at a now thoroughly bothered Remus. Honestly, Sirius, if I'd have known getting glasses would shellshock you like this, I would have prepared a twelve step program...  
  
Hey, that's right! exclaimed James, who had now gotten over the thrill of seeing Sirius motionless and silent for more than two seconds. How's it feel to be a part of the spectacle-wearing populace - geeky?  
  
James, if I were to harbour any sort of sweeping generalizations towards people who wear glasses, I would have to base it off of your behaviour. And your behaviour, if you'll forgive me for saying so, Remus coughed, hiding a smile, is somewhat abnormal, if not approaching insane.  
  
Why, thank you!  
  
I said approaching', not completely, mind you.  
  
I'm a work in progress, what can I say? beamed James, not at all deterred. Unlike Sirius, who was an absolute nutter from day one. Lucky bugger, he was born wi -  
  
John bleedin' Lennon glasses!  
  
Er, glad to see you've decided to join us once more, Sirius, Peter tried, not altogether sure how to react. Ah, who's glass lemon is bleeding now?  
  
John Lennon, you ninny! Sirius admonished, launching himself onto the seat next to Remus and sitting cross-legged, a rapt expression on his previously-comatose face. John Lennon glasses, wow!  
  
Remus blinked at their sudden proximity, noting abstractedly that someone should throw the remainder of the Chocolate Frogs and all sugar-based foodstuffs out the window if they hoped to survive this.  
  
Sirius, I don't mean to offend, but... You're in my bubble, the brown-haired preteen quietly informed. While I appreciate your enthusiasm for my, er, John Melon glasses, I really do like having personal space, an-  
  
What did you just call them? Sirius interrupted softly, his voice deadly calm. You said John Melon', didn't you?  
  
Well, I hardly think their proper name changes anything, Remus persisted matter-of-factly, despite having learnt very early on that being pragmatical around a logically-uninclined Sirius Black was like instructing a hippogriff on the finer points of quantum mechanics.  
  
DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING, DOES IT?! exploded Sirius, displaying a lung capacity and volume that he could only have inherited from his mother. WELL, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I CALLED YOU ABSOLUTE BUGGER' FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?!!  
  
But you wouldn't, frowned Remus, too accustomed to Sirius' temper to even feign shock. Because Absolute Bugger' sounds nothing like Remus Lupin'. That just doesn't make sense.  
  
YOU - YOU- Sirius thundered, unable to find words to correctly express the deep loathing he presently felt for his close friend. Remus watched him patiently, interested in what his Sirius' mind might come up with. YOU AND YOUR DAMN SENSE-MAKING!!  
  
James echoed, while Sirius regained his breath. Way to set a new standard for idiots everywhere, Siri.  
  
At least I'm original with my idiocy, unlike you, Mr. Let's-Dye-Snape's-Hair-Pink-For-The-Fortieth-Time-This-Week! Sirius tossed back nastily.   
  
James turned very red at this, muttering to his shoes that it was best to stick to the classics, anyways. Sirius gave a little huff, resettling himself a more appropriate distance from Remus and crossing his arms moodily, an act which always signalled the end of his hissy fits.  
  
So, Remus, Peter began tentatively, how's my essay?  
  
Not too bad, actually, answered Remus, putting the pages back into proper order. Except for your tendency to confuse affect' and effect', I say it's -  
  
Remus was cut off by the sensation of wind near his face, and came to the very quick realization that his glasses were missing.  
  
Sirius, you have all the subtlety of a train wreck, he sighed, not even bothering to verify that it was in fact the black-haired boy who had purloined his glasses. Now give them back.  
  
Why should I, snorted Sirius contemptuously, fingering the spectacles appraisingly.   
  
Because he needs them to bloody see, you prat, James snarled, coming to Remus' defense partially because he felt like being noble, and partially because Sirius was pissing him off royally.  
  
No, he doesn't! They're just clear glass, Sirius exclaimed in a tone of voice that was positively ashamed of James for not realizing this sooner.   
  
What? They are? At Sirius' exaggerated nodding, James turned angrily to Remus, looking at him from overtop his glasses in a very foreboding way. You don't need specs?  
  
No shit, Sherlock, Remus snapped back, thinking that if the entire world was going to be angry at him, he might as well make a case of it. I like the look of them.  
  
James looked scandalized that Remus would ridicule the necessity of glasses in such a brazen way, while Sirius merely appeared to be looking for a fight.  
  
No shit, eh? Well, then, keep digging, Watson! he glared, secretly congratulating himself on finally finding an occasion upon which he could use that line. You berk, desecrating John Lennon like that!  
  
And who the ruddy hell's John Lennon?! Remus replied heatedly, ignoring Peter's quiet call for peace. One of those hippie-freaks you're all hot for?!   
  
YOU SHOULD KNOW, ABSOLUTE BUGGER! Sirius countered, working himself up to the levels of his previous rage. I CAN SEE YOUR BELLBOTTOMS HIDING UNDER YOUR ROBES!!!  
  
There was simultaneous movement to look at the base of Remus' robes.  
  
Are those sandals? James questioned interestedly. Peter leaned forward to get a closer view.  
  
Toe rings, too, he noted astutely, observing Remus with intense scrutiny. Hey, a beaded necklace! And is that incense I smell?  
  
ALL RIGHT, I ADMIT IT! cried Remus, leaping up from his seat and removing his robes in what an outside observer would have thought to be a very bizarre striptease. I'M A PART-TIME HIPPIE!! WHAT'S SO WRONG WITH THAT?!  
  
And so he was. For under Remus' black school robes lay an outfit that epitomized hippie fashion.  
  
Patched bellbottoms, belt with a peace sign, tie-dye shirt, beaded necklace, cork sandals, toe rings, leather-fringe vest and - Don't tell me you have oversize psychadelic rings in your pocket! James gaped, stunned by the inventory he had just taken.  
  
And that's not all, Remus cackled, I've let my hair grow out!  
  
He turned around, revealing a ponytail he had been hiding under his collar.  
  
Remus, half an inch worth of ponytail can't be termed as growing your hair out', Sirius sighed, while Remus flushed.   
  
Shut up, Sirius, the pseudo-hippie said, glaring at the floor. James snorted at Remus' hurt tone, giving Sirius an amicable look.  
  
Aw, don't be angry, Remmy - he's only jealous of your glasses, James explained, while Sirius nodded unconcernedly.   
  
I can't see why, Peter piped up softly, the Beatles aren't even together anymore...  
  
SO?! THEY'RE STILL THE GREATEST BAND IN THE WHOLE DAM-  
  
Shut up, Sirius, Remus repeated, in what was to be, along with You thought _what_ would be a good idea?!', keywords for all conversations he would have with Sirius in the years to come. Remus made a half-hearted swipe for his stolen glasses, and failed. You're not going to give me my glasses back, are you?  
  
I'm just borrowing them indefinitely.  
  
But isn't that the same thing as stealing?   
  
Are you calling me a thie-  
  
Sirius, how do you even know about the Beatles? James questioned suddenly, hoping to change the subject before Sirius found new cause to get angry. Doesn't your mum have, uh, issues with Muggle stuff?  
  
Oh, she has issues with Muggle stuff, all right - why do you think I have and know so much about it? Sirius laughed tightly. But life goes on.  
  
I suppose you're just letting it be, right? Remus asked innocuously, picking up Peter's essay once more. James and Peter blinked, but Sirius only grinned.  
  
Yeah, with a little help from my friends.  
  


*end flashback*  
  


I can't believe he tried to throw up on us! What sort of a friend does that?! one very irate James Potter shouted, thundering down the stairs after Peter.  
  
A sick one? volunteered the blond, making his way into the kitchen.   
  
James ignored him, continuing what sounded like a very promising compilation of all of Sirius' lesser qualities. (Which, according to the stag Animagus, was including and not limited to having the habit of belting out Led Zeppelin's Black Dog at the most inopportune moments.)  
  
Ah, more aspiring members of the Sirius Black Has Ruined My Life' club, Remus crowed from his position atop the kitchen counter. The werewolf was eating one of James' emergency Toblerone bars, looking ready to go on a binge at the slightest provocation. He waggled the chocolate at James, a lopsided grin on his face. And what horror has he bestowed upon you, my good man?  
  
He tried to spew on me, answered James, joining Remus on the countertop and taking a piece of Toblerone. I had to use the bucket as a shield.  
  
That bucket? Remus asked, pointing to the (clean) bucket James was holding.  
  
Yeah, that's the one. Handy things, self-Scourgifying buckets. Lily found the spell in a housekeeper's magazine a while ba - damn.  
  
With that ambiguous cursing, James bolted for the stairs, which he took three at a time. Remus and Peter looked at each other for a long moment, before it clicked and everything fell into place.  
  
The place in question being the white bathroom and hallway so coveted by one Lily Potter.   
  
Lily Potter, who happened to not need much incentive when it came to hexing those who disturbed the pristine qualities of said bathroom and hallway.   
  
It was not too much to assume that Lily would indeed count the event of Sirius throwing up all over the hallway and/or bathroom as disturbing the latter's pristine qualities.  
  
Peter and Remus turned their gaze to the ceiling, where the sounds of James pounding up the stairs resonated.  
  
The bespectacled man reached the landing in record time, only to find it fully and completely empty and silent. James took this as a very bad sign, as there was no surer omen of impending catastrophe than absolute calm wherever Sirius was concerned.   
  
So when Sirius came bursting out of the guest room, face a vivid green, cheeks bulging, hands clamped over his mouth and eyes wide with panic, James could never claim he had been surprised. Horrified beyond all reason, maybe. But far from surprised.  
  
Sirius wasted no time in stumbling towards the painfully white bathroom nearby. But despite the sick prankster's best hobbling, it became clear very quickly that he would not make it.  
  
There were many reasons for why James was the (usually) undisputed leader in their pack. One of them was that Sirius had insisted upon filling the part of resident daft sod. The other was that James was a very quick thinker, and had gotten them out of sticky situations more than once with his brilliant, last-minute plans.  
  
What he yelled at Sirius to do at that moment was not one of these plans.  
  
SIRIUS, JUUUMMPPPPP!!!!  
  
And Sirius jumped, throwing himself into the air for the final portion of his dash to the loo. For a glorious moment, he was airborn, sailing over the white carpet and into the bathroom with infinite fluidity.  
  
That image was ruined the second he threw up in mid-flight, got sick all over the bathroom cupboards and crashed into those same cupboards head-first.  
  
All Remus and Peter heard of this was: THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, SIRIUS, JUUUMMPPPPP!!!!, BLEARGH, CRASH.   
  
It was a unanimous decision that they find out what in the nine hells had transpired, scarring events or not.  
  
They found James in the bathroom, beaming at Sirius as though he was the best thing to happen since Quidditch. Sirius, on the other hand, lay crumpled in a pile of his own vomit, limbs folded in rather unatural positions. Every so often he would emit sounds that might have been intended as the english language, but came out sounding more like a mixture between yiddish, sanskrit and plain old gibberish.  
  
-and then I told Padfoot to jump, and he did, an- James bubbled excitedly, only to be interrupted in the middle of his thrilling account by Remus.  
  
What sort of mentality would one have to possess in order to come to the conclusion that leaping into the air might somehow make the situation better?! Remus winced, rubbing his temple painedly. Not to mention the mentality it would take to actually carry through with that idea...  
  
Well, it worked, didn't it? replied James, still positively giddy with joy. Look, no throw up on the carpet whatsoever! It's all on the cupboard door and the tile floor!  
  
Remus blinked, vaguely impressed.  
  
Brilliant, that won't leave any marks behind! Peter grinned, affording Sirius a reverent look which the latter completely missed due to his being dazed and confused. Lily will never know!  
  
Damn right, she won't! Way to go, Siri! You're the best person in the world!   
  
James looked like he wanted to praise Sirius' glowing heroism further, but the sound of the front door opening killed all potential conversation.  
  
Upstairs, several panicked looks were exchanged, and the three wizards set about positioning themselves in front of the now-familiar sight of a prone Sirius and the less-than immaculate bathroom.  
  
James, hurry! Do a cleaning spell! Remus hissed, just as the top of Lily's head came into view coming up the stairs. James shut his eyes and flicked his wand over his shoulder, hoping it had some positive effect.  
  
What's up, guys? the redhead smiled, oblivious to the terror that was practically permeating the house. Or should I say, que tal?  
  


* * *  
  


Well, I really hope this chapter satisfied you guys, considering you've been waiting for it for... how many months? Ack, not counting.  
  
ON UPDATES:  
I expect to be able to write a fair bit in the weeks to come, as I'm on my winter break. So I'll try to get chapter 6 out faster, but I make no promises - my Biology 12 provincial exam is coming up, and it counts for 40% of my mark, so that's kind of my priority...  
  
I noticed that a bunch of readers took the lack of updates as a sign I had abandoned SaaD. DO NOT WORRY. I will finish SaaD, guaranteed. It may take over a year, but it's becoming a point of pride that I finish it. So, barring my death, SaaD will be completed in all its 26 chapter glory. Promise.  
  
Besides, my livejournal (www.livejournal.com/~super_drive) gives progress reports of SaaD fairly often, so I can't encourage you enough to take a look if you're really stressing.  
  
I'm also more than willing to send notification emails for whenever I update. If you want to be emailed when a new chapter is added, then just leave you email in your review.   
  
THE BATHROOM SCENE:  
And now I shall regale you all with the inside story on the white bathroom scene, which I'm sure will have scarred some of you. It scarred me, too, when my friend Heather told it to me.  
  
That's right. It's a true story. It happened to Heather's uncle when he was younger in pretty much the exact same way I describe it in the story (sans James, though). So I guess truth really is stranger than fiction..or funnier, in any case. Thanks to the Wallace family for letting me share that little gem with the world!  
  
READER QUESTION:   
How was Mrs. Black? I had issues not making her a devil-witch, so please tell me how I did. Bellatrix is coming up soon (I actually had her in this chapter, but cut it out for continuity reasons), so I want to see if I can do the whole family from hell thing reasonably.   
  
AWARDS:   
I would like to take a moment to everyone who voted for SaaD in the HPFA! As I reported in my profile, SaaD took home the Best James Potter Era Story (In Progress) award, which had me ecstatic for a good hour. I love this fandom, I tell you!  
  
On a similar note, the winter HPFA awards are happening right now, so do the nice thing and nominate an author - we love the recognition!  
  
**Reviews:**  
**Radioactive Granny: **David Bowie and James Bond, huh. I never thought of it that way before... interesting! The best Sirius you've ever seen? Really? *sniffle* Thank you! The lunch break thing, because that's exactly what my friends and I do - I'm flattered and more than a little shocked that my little fic is getting the lunch break treatment from others! Oh, and the Beatles ended up not being the focal point after all, Ms. Bowie.   
**Cristin: **My writing gives people headaches?? Wow. That's news! And don't die - the updates will come, honestly! Thanks for the reliable reviewing!   
**Shifty Eyed Moogle: **Yes, I do have a life, but that really doesn't excuse not updating for however many months it was. Thank you for not hurting me, as I'm very feeble.Grammar and spelling have always come pretty easily to me, and I always make a point of having the least amount of errors as possible; glad you appreciate it! As for profanity, well, I've had to make more of an effort with that, as my rage at my own life tends to find its way into each chapter... Ah, well. Thanks for the glowing review!  
**ltnikki: **P.M. is wonderful, yes he/she/it is. Thanks for offering to beta - you're too kind. I'll remember the offer!   
**Sarah-Anna: **Glad to see Flower Power lives on in amazons everywhere - your enthusiasm is much appreciated!   
**sailoranime: **Oh, Sirius' death depresses me too, but making fun of it helps ever so much! The spelling of mantid' actually isn't a mistake, although it certainly looks like one. Mantid' is the common name for the family Mantidae to which praying mantises belong (like Feline for cats). I did research! (Although I did screw up on their life cycles..oh, well. They're magical, damnit.) You can interpret Peter's job however you want to - it seemed like a profound thing to write at the time. It's not going to become a plot point or anything, but yeah, I guess I kind of intended it to mean Peter's spying for Voldie. My, you certainly pay close attention, don't you! Thanx!   
**Rainsong:****** Now there's an accomplishment for me! Thank you, darling. Now finish AtO (just kidding).  
**Tirya King:****** Yay, a celebrity reviewer! I love your stuff, and I can hardly believe you love mine! I'm still not quite confident with my characterizations, so thank you! Hard Day's Night' scares me - perhaps that'll find its way into an upcoming chapter. Thanks so very much for reviewing!   
**_eep:** P.M. was a big hit with everybody, it seems! Thanks for your patience. Alleviating boredom is my forte! Thank you!   
**sirius the homicidal maniac:** Sorry for disrupting your sleeping patterns - I have a tendency to do that. Yes, the P.M. thing does hit you out of the blue, doesn't it? Hope you weren't too shocked! Thanks for reviewing, and do try to sleep - listen to some Beatles ballads. They usually help.   
**Viridian Magpie:** Ooh, aren't we knowledgeable! Thank you muchly, especially for finding the error. I am so blind...   
**Jeni:** Great, the flashback aren't stupid or out of place like I thought they'd be! I aim to please, and thanks for the flattery!  
  
NEXT TIME: Sirius isn't the only dog in town anymore when James gets a new pet, and the gang finds out that Sirius is, in fact, the jealous type. Just their luck (or lack thereof).   



End file.
